i know how to jump start a car and
i know thirteen different ways to light a fire and
i know that i sleep better when you're here.

i know how to make a pipe with an apple
and i know how to roll poplar bark into twine and
i know what you're afraid of.

i know that sometimes turkeys drown because they stand
with their heads thrown back in the rain.

i know all the state capitals and
i know all the books of the old testament in order and
i know how far you'd have to jump to be sure you didn't survive.
i know that my biggest fear was always the time stretched out between
today and the end and i know that
lately i am not so afraid.
i know it's at least a little bit
because of you.

i know that my lungs crave mountains
like my fingers crave dirt
like my hands crave yours.

i know how the world looks on your seventy second hour awake
and i know how thirteen tabs of acid feels and
i know how to steal things without getting caught.
i know how thirty-year-old hands squeeze
sixteen-year-old hips.
i know that "*******" isn't a compliment.

i know deep breathing techniques,
calming rituals,
and numbers for help lines i'll never call.
i know that frogs breathe through their skin
and that sometimes
they die when you touch them.

i know that i do not breathe through my skin,
no matter how often i forget.