let go
of that little blister on her foot  
and sitting next to her
on the bus that jostles
her head on your shoulder

on the roof her
somnambulant hand
is tucked into your shirt
let go the concrete
floor that holds you up
whose sharp grip
cut her knees

let go the bruises
on your own knees
that dug deep into the tile
of the bathroom floor

let go
like the beach letting go of a wave
clouds of sand tumbling in sea foam