tried to sit with it
ended up on the far end of the bench
clenching my
unclench these
empty fists
hands laced with could
but not full up

crowing;
I'm crowing this
woman's name
this woman I
this and I
not as us

the brain of the dog
can sense the rain
the heart of the horse
that laps at your face

outstretched arms of quiet drenched in sentiment, drenched in sentences, dripping through my mornings. spilling that tar from the lung's lies, spilling salt and honey
honey and spit
dancing heavy
spooning sweat
not being let

could you speak up
say yes
I'm not ready to give you up quite yet