sitting next to me she pointed to the keychain - smiling with a stranger like giggling at recess, how lucky, how lucky
the sky was not there when i went to the courtyard but instead a new set of stairs to a new set of bricks and cold quesadillas
i always thought loitering meant staying the night but i promise to tarry forever, how lucky, how lucky, i shouldt say such things i know, but how hard to resist when i hear someone on the other side on the other pane of glass, oh how lucky, how lucky, i look forward

black blanketed empty ice
i didnt want to bring it
i didnt feel the pull the push the desire the bone-burning fire
i think i might be losing what it meant what i felt what i dreamt
grieving on pine needle floors
"TO DECIDE"
is it even up to me anymore
"everything that i want
i now have to give up
because it seems appropriate"
(appropriating portions that you punctuate)
if abdication is required well then so be it
or at least that is the manner that i will depict
as i realize the extent to which i fluctuate

spotted in tears parallel to peers
for the impact is unimaginable
intangible ungrounded unfounded unmanageable

i stand in the back row, watching the casket sink lower
im never sure whos inside
whats divine when theres nothing alive
to what capacity will the constraining factor maintain
incapable, an electric field of rage, inescapable
a negatively charged invertebrate ablaze
as if i ever had a chance against the flames

yellow crosswalk indicators underneath my shoes
sillhouetted familiarity by the garden ledge
and instead, wiping away water, stopping for the view

six identical plates, twelve identical more
will i wont i, pushed aside
deciding that right now i will be fine
six identical breaks, twelve identical torn

this future does not carry over
perhaps it is that i will be declined denied reimagined revived
i will never be ready for anything old for anything new
not even clouds in windows in lines
i miss you i miss you i miss -
well
i miss what i used to think of you

but standing in that row
did you hear what i had whispered
a candle lit dinner in tandem to splinters
for some time
sitting alone at the table
inside of my mind
would i even if i was able
did you notice
did you falter
are you stable
the stone had a name like mine

there was a heron in the sky when i crossed the street this morning. ive never seen a heron so far from water, so far from home. i watched it gently, despite the people walking. i dont always break the unspoken in this manner, and although ive been more often lately, it still is not consistent, and so feels notable in this instance. of course there you were when you werent and lasting considerably though considering what is normal to me this was not notable.
but a heron was flying when i got off the bus today.

i felt as rested as ten with completed checks yet really i was running on a miracle three with more boxes than i could carry with my hurting wrist and hurting knees -

dear god,
will you hold me so softly with mercy in your palms,
will you tell me so delicately what you mean when you speak,
will you set me so lovingly to the floor when you must let me down,
for there will come the time for me to die.

at six fifty pm they turn off all the lights. and down the block sitting at the stop, at last a moment to catch up, and that is when i saw the second one that day.

dear heron,
will you fly again so starkly with your ever fervent beauty,
will you seek me out so blatantly though subtle as you have been guided,
will you return so frequently further, but not so much you disappear,
for i would love a heron to fly when my time has come to pass.

holding you feels like an inevitable. intangible yet legible. i dont check the clock when im waiting for the bus. it will arrive when it does and when it does i will get on it.

i saw two herons on tower street today.

scintillated leaves
a cold piano sits
separated lights glinting over black
organic liquid crystal
made of melted sleep
silk screen politics
upheaval and sink

sitting in sun past locked windowed doors
wrist tendon tensioned from trying tagging for the first time
sometimes it pulls at my sleeve and i cannot predict when it will be, but at least it doesnt drag me like it used to
merely quietly suggesting to tentatively assume that it is true -
and i feel it striking down, rolling over skin, curling at the edge
but i will not give in

patience demanded now
it couldve been worse but i wasnt sure -
looking, and my thoughts are not current
and im sorry and im scared and is it worth it

unsatiated crown
cutting off, its all i know
the only thing i can control
and i worry and i falter
because all thats in my palms are stones

nearly noon oclock at night
phone screen poetry on a shared queen bed
the kitty woke me up this morning
his sweet little paws so gently said hello
a fistful of minutes and my toes touch the floor

i never understand the fridges of anothers home
but eggs are in the pan and pancake battered bowl
red room breakfast, black tea in the car
water on the ground sleeping soundly
cash back in the pocket
it was perfect pacin walkin
upstairs adventure with a basket of snacks
you called at just the right time for that strawberry milk pack

dorm couch poetry next to different angled conversations my world in rotation everything falling into place i dont know how to convey to you the magnitude but holy ******* **** i love my friends *******!

driving down the [] trail to ikea
cs backup in the backseat lackin sleep stacked up
parkin lot food keepin stats up
as the five hour campaign begins as it seems itll last us

why the ***** was it so hot in there

two weeks later and ive finally found a bathroom
(now i understand the scps and backrooms)
cleaning closed to women so its great that im a man or at least enough to take the handle still on brand but -
ive come to see things so unlike the way i have before a total norm to have the room with another human being it doesnt bother me at all in fact it feels natural sharing walls ive never been there on my own like that before -
such exhilaration from a stall inside a store and everything has changed,

Everything has Changed.

(fading bruises blue i never thought id heal in truth)
but actually outside of me every little thing has stayed the same -
and it is my lungs that have been shifted since the air that i am breathing is not different its just never like i used to

weird *** food court and a homework champ
bluetooth music with your mandatory lamp
hurtling down the aisles in a flatbed cart/
clambering the scaffolding
hampering the staff it seems
i say this dearly but you three quite sincerely
have a chokehold on my heart

ive never tried konjak jelly and ive never heard cherry wine but boy i cannot wait for these to be the first of a long string of things, immerse me in your lives submerged and intertwined i want to love you guys for a long long long ******* time

cloudy early brightly walking
auto pilot busing
an extra hour of penciled words
just for your entrusting
trigun sketches life drawn messes
another joined us later
and when the photos posted
he was clearly there and on the table in the conversation causing laughter blushing i was not expecting because now you know

but then at one, another ride
a couple window hours
yet again an extra time a walk sublime
the flowers were in blossom
cherry petal soles to your aunt and uncles home
a pink abode above a pretty road
a most beautiful smile just beyond the door

oh how i missed you

talk of alcohol and crushes/ down the block and such this is/ so wonderful i love you, club or tonic i dont know the difference

dicing garlic in the kitchen
noodles cooking bread baking i tried white wine for the first time
(it was not particularly good)
but i drank it and i love you, watching tv on the couch
the little man that mr chicken he is just a little guy
a darling baby boy a chunky kitten
makes me think to past and how it felt in the backseat of the hospital parking lot i miss him

long hugs by the sink, a purple face cloth to my hands
a day that is so beautiful
my love, the heart expands

integrals of goldfish and scrollin
significantly easier than expected
bracelets and blocks and rockets
from breakin a hundred

short drive the hill that rarely took
bowl of quinoa and another of pudding
just like the cups on the table of atla
waiting whistling losing air in digital pacing

it was four minutes after
one down and just to two
once again im wonderin but this time i know that its not true

cutting ice with knives and gliding with lemons
bodyprox'd knees and coworkers girlfriends
gargoyling fountains and relacing skates
i wouldnt much mind getting used to this

its dark and its late and you asked me what sort of changes id been thru
the second that ive ever told to

the first stop was closed but the next one was perfect
yoyo slingin in the parking lot
with rippled notes blastin tunes
reference typin effect affect i love you

early morning heavy bag with nothing else but hopeful
they said theyd be there soon
you say youll be there later
catan at engineering noon
was bittersweet flavored

water in the kettle
barely touched the mech on the table
last day tears in the after shelter mental
i was in the ceramics studio when you arrived when it all came together
rivers of slip and clay and dip and dip and swing

keeping printing lately squinting
we helped to bring the paper
you disappeared concerning feared
but just for shoes in your backseat

sparkled nails on the church's floor
behind the curtain essay typin
ping pong flyin wild story improv timin
next to those shoes scrollin and the topic was ace
so i dont know if its my place
but
as we left the lack of open doors was odd/
so then came back to the front lawn of god to give you a plastic bag of support
keepin rapport in some way of some sort
gracious hospitality that it wasnt raining
though when we were waiting there were trains and there was dogs/
but soon hes gone and hugged and loved

and now im in the front seat;
and then im in the drivers.

back window fogged, behind the wheel with you beside me reel and keel my necks still sore two days later just like my brain that needs a stapler
because i couldnt look at you
im scared of being fake but then/
music's meant to sing
i went to bed at 1 am
i dont regret a thing