A fragment, simply
A poem is very simple
it could be about food
it could be about the sky
it could be about two nations
It could be about two fertilized eggs divided decades apart
but I digress
it could be about you
Fingers ink the dark map of the world and we pencil in the rain
A poem is very simple
it could be about disappearance
it could be about grief
it could be about remembering
it could be about death and birthing
but I digress
it could be about you
Sentences river as long as the curve of your index finger stretching in the morning toward the green hills tongued by fox and fog
A poem is very simple
it could be about entering the world through violence
it could be about exiting language with reluctance
it could be about living between offer and relinquishment
but I digress
it could be about you
The bitten smile of the sky’s dark morning eyes made slender by touch
This poem is very simple
we surrender over bright things in the distance
hearts tumbling down the ridge of the canyon
promises damp as the trunk’s cambium
shall I digress from this uncanny place
in fact
The poem is you
