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Jun 2019
she’s young and fresh like lettuce leaves,
// warm and sweet like summers best peaches

she waits at the door for you, just so she can open it //
when we walk through she skips ahead, spinning in dizzying circles

she smiles and i lose track of time
// i feel the cameraman- she is the art i am watching unfold before me

when we all became, simultaneously,
i wonder if she was too close or too far to the blast //
maybe she’s not supposed to he here

when we all fell from grace there were some beyond us, waiting with widened eyes and dripping teeth for us to fail

she has no vendetta
she takes what is ready
young or old, healthy or sick

maybe she’s lost

/ maybe she’s found, right here /
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