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In the spring time
I walk through the city
Palms up
Touching every flower
I can
And think myself a pollinator
Inheriting the passing petrichor
The sweetness of red mud
And isn’t that enough?
The bees momentary visit
To the flower
Asking her to grow
Palms facing up
I deserve good things
Picking pecans from the ground
Peppermint tea on my night stand
I deserve to fall in love
With the indentation in the floor
In front of my kitchen sink
The bliss of
A wooden spoon
How many times a year
Can you give yourself to an idea?
I told you once
I was tired
Of living in
Wreck & repair

Now I’m thinking
That’s mostly what everything is

I bit my nails down to the skin again
There’s a pile of leaves
In freedom park that
I hesitate at
It’s tempting to
Dive in
Afraid I’ll find the pain
Of all the I love you’s
I’ve withheld
With cold
Curled fingers
Afraid I’ll find the ground
To be harder
Than I thought
Roses in a pitcher in a window at a suburban Starbucks. They’re still wrapped in the plastic from Publix. A koolaid pitcher. A kind gesture from a stranger to another.

Eating my roommates left over pastina (the kind he makes that I like with carrots and kale) room temp out of the *** while I load the dish washer

While I’m loading the dishwasher it begins to rain (ga is turning into Florida) but I like how the rain looks out the window in front of the plant cuttings I have rooting on the windowsill

The plant cuttings in the cute jars I don’t need to collect but still find joy in collecting

New leaves and how good it makes me feel to talk to them

A *** of tea I bought for two, and even though I’m just one now I can almost always still finish the ***

Peppermint

The tin of loose leaf jasmine, its golden color, and the instruction manual that comes with it. How to make jasmine tea.

Spending as long as I want in the grocery store or famers market

Produce makes me really happy
So does the bakery
So does planning a meal for friends
And so does buying flowers

Crying listening to npr in my car (this American life or wait wait don’t tell me)
Crying feels good sometimes and these programs make me feel closer to my mom even though we’ve almost always lived far apart

Making bread. I can only make focaccia right now and I’m generally bad at baking. This is teaching me a patience that I think I can have else where

Sunbathing

Time in the water til you get pruny and your skin feels slick. This is a specific summer joy in a lake or a river
Maybe the ocean

Public pools and the way little kids really have no spatial awareness
When it’s hot in the summer a lot of parents/babysitters, grandmas, etc bring the little ones into the sun for a few hours. Wading through the 3ft section dodging little kids with goggles that come up gasping for hair all snot faced

The idea that maybe I want kids one day
It’s a nice
Daydream

Talking about daydreams
Making big plans that you aren’t sure will happen, but there’s still joy in the giggling delusion you share with friends or lovers or strangers

The train, the light in the train, the knowing you’re on a train
I mean even Marta

Mushrooms. I think chanterelles changed my life. Brought me back to the day time. Brought me back to connection not involved a dime bag or 20 shots back to back. A day time connection. A natural one cultivated at the roots of oaks.

Oak trees are old.

Black berries grow everywhere in Georgia. I find them hiding along the fences under overpasses. Hushing traffic with their glistening dark pearls and red thorns. I’m not sure I’d eat those but they still bring me joy.

Honey suckle. I thought they smelled like jasmine so I told everyone I had jasmine in my yard. I was wrong. I love the smell and how far it travels. I love the tea I make from it sometimes.

Ash’s giggle and brightening personality
Danielle’s fierce loyalty and dedication
Mias softness, wisdom, and determination
Emma’s playfulness, her creativity, and wanderlust

Theo laying behind me on the couch
Using her as a pillow

Dog birthdays

The guy riding his moped with a plastic rain bubble around it on boulevard

Trying to place a prank call but giggling too much to finish saying anything. The adrenaline hits me despite my failure.
Achy
Like when I chew my nails
Too short
Bursting blood vessels
At the tips
The pads of my fingers
Sensitive to
The touch
And my heart
Gently
And painfully
Beating underneath

I say this because
I noticed you bite your nails too
And maybe
One day you’ll meet me
Where I am
I’m hoping the sunburn on my left shoulder freckles,
White spots to the white smoke
Pouring from my glove box
While I take the highway in
Sweat pooling at the base of my spine
I’d like freckles on my shoulders
More than crying shuffling around
Brownwood
More than the big hoodie
I can tuck my knees into
And more than
Any love thin
And distant in dialect

I’d like just a few freckles
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