From down here, so low,
I see the sun’s eye
like a marble
and I wish
it would drop down –
and turn this tube to a shooting beam
and burn me up in laser light –
perhaps it might.
Inside of mouth silks in fluid slow motion
“Take out my heart”
Said the tree to me
“Take the sword to it”
“Slash it, let me die happily”
“Only, don’t use the fire, because
In the flames, I see my spirit die,
I feel bitter fear of the livid heat
And I know I’ll be consumed so fully
That I’ll have no chance for peace.”
“Don’t let me live on as a totem
For someone else’s hopeful dreams
As I stand in painful stasis.”
Thanks for your presence,
I reach out to you and you pour attention and “love ya”s my way,
I love when you’re happy and when you’re not I wish for better for you and let you talk about the same things and I’ll never mind that.
The same things come up even in a life of dynamism,
In a life of stasis, the same happens so thanks for listening to my sameness too.
There’s no pressure to speak if we don’t want, just your general presence in my box of treasured people makes me glad.
the arc of my back bridges the sky and the thing below it
my body holds my own suffering in it and blends with the tributaries that flow so constant and fresh into my head
i dig my hands into the tree and it stretches up into my leafy fingertips
i spread my arms in the soil and the carpet ripples above with my sigh
my eye feeds the plants and fauna with enriching summer gaze
the puddles are my pooling sweat from creative effort
grass blades are the hairs on the back of my neck
they sweep in the wind of my breath and the dew is my morning tears placed on needle point
My conceit is wilted and fractured,
Starts as a waif,
Fleshes out to a thick
Clumsy carving of a free-form something, and I let it.