Substrate

“Love someone back,” she wrote in a poem that I read the first day I realized I already loved her and always would. “You just begin.” So I began. Sometimes if I close my eyes, I can go back into that moment, finding the colors now reflected against the flesh under my lids; I can imagine her posture and her size, her eyes wide open, taking it in; and then, whether it actually happened then or not, her shoulder at my shoulder, her left hand slipped into my right hand, forever there.

A crystal sheet Below, an enormous secret lake, like gladness. and worn by thousands and thousands of other women reminds you of yourself when you are not even sure what that is Mesh of thunder above. Soon I won’t be at arm’s length.

Yet it’s close. It feels like a new suit or sheet. You are good to everyone and you don't care. Knowing pillows of smoke and a yawn's opulence. I am happy for you. I wish you would go away. And recognize your dad, that tiny figure raking leaves. And hear me out. And hear me out. Listen. --- And recognize your dad, that tiny figure raking leaves. And hear me out. And hear me out. Listen.

The sky is open all the way. whose irrepressible birds can’t believe their luck this morning

To uncoil the wild little everything inside lungs throbbed by its own wings