1.13

I just realized you look like my high school best friend
whenever I realize anything it changes me so deep for a sec

look at the changing light

that's happening ALL THE TIME

i keep imagining a quiet moment away from everything else involved where i can just hug you around the waist like i'm four years old and try to push uncomplicated love out from every piece that touches you so that you understand that i never meant to hurt you and i know it has nothing to do with me. i want to be a blanket wrapped around your shoulders to keep you safe and warm and i do not want to confuse you. i know that's not how it works. i know that anger bubbles up inside of you when you remember me. and anger fills up my hands when i remember you, but i'm sitting on them and breathing in and hoping you'll forgive me for anything you think i did. there are people who want to take care of you. i am one of them. you can curl up and be soft in a bad world. i love you.

1.12

someone will find me tiptoeing

around some broken glass

on an abandoned little boat in the gulf of mexico

or in the wooden arms of a godmother oak

near the cleared throat dark of the forest

I can be long enough to make up for

what paces you've forgotten about

1.11

trying to navigate
thru all the shit
that makes the breeze
brush my hair to
stick to my lips
try to be hotter &
cooler, wetter
melty grass colored
string pulled from
under something heavy
trying to be globular
and spherical, taste
the wildflower that the
bee kissed before she
pooped out your honey

1.10

breathe in and let murmuration out, with a shape of water on expensive stonehenge. touch it, let it swell, fill the shape. I had a dream last night about touching the wood on the windowsill of a window we've since replaced, it was blonde and smooth and had glue peeling on the edge. I would kneel on the couch and watch from there with peach, rest my head on her strong shoulder. maybe I need to be alone for a few days. there was a family of rabbits living under the shed in my back yard, they were scared and clean. I was an enemy, a clumsy four year old, my stupid bowl cut and my mom watching me so close from the kitchen or the swingset. why am I so fucking careful like her, do you feel something weird going on? I have this thing lately where I feel like everything is absolutely done. not perfect, or complete or without flaw, but left alone. it's new and it's okay to leave things alone.

1.09

in a little more than a month the sun'll start to be awake longer

cleaning these eggshells, they look like me, leave them on the counter

my mom will throw them away

gave my dog a bath, he was so scared to be warm

so happy when it was done, thanking me over and over

my eyes are on strings wrapped around 6 am

thinking about your favorite spot in rochester and going there all the time

to just maybe run into you there

everything I write is about other people, so selfish and false

I think something that was stone in me is crumbling away

and I'm not always right anymore

1.08

when a bean sprout dies inside

your belly a man can't understand

your sweet breath even though you didn't mean it

and I never meant to let it happen

you let the dog bark at you

like he has a reason to be scared

1.07

a lightning bug in deep maryland is winking
an unlucky star winks back as she falls backwards into the black,
the clearest thing is how the snow mutes a train of thought
miller plays the guitar but he says he’s not very good,
     he said the frequency of a star ending is D#
          stepped a handful of octaves down, past the end of what we know,

I know your cheek viewed from 5 o'clock when those eyelashes flick at 12
a sticky orange rind you hold in your palm 
     sunlight close up
orphan wind wraps its fingers around the front door of your house
and you hardwood floor sock slip to answer her
lending yourself to cave into a want to stare at the sky
the wind wraps its fingers around your upturned neck
            raspy freckled in starry pinpricks

1.06

what will remembering this be like

will I hate myself

will I forgive myself

will I jump back in my body sometime soon when I'm on the way

to get you from the bus station, speeding in the snow to finally take a breath