Think abundance:
light held pooling
in the corner of a mirror,
the gentle
slant of your mouth.
Sky looks nice
held up by
tops of heads
high spring.
Blink before
a wall of leaves–
we look, we pink
this heaving dread
is loosened.
I feel all my
swords
falling out.
Are you very fearful?
Does it trouble you
to realize we are made
to live inside of
rooms? Heaven
like an attic
or the uppermost
like height like
window spitting
bright shapes
xxxacross your bed
the wall behind.
Worry some walls
swollen, plummy– I’ve
sunk into this
hole and still
I’m loving you, I’m
on my feet for
most of the day.
To be assured
a hundred times this
sparse cool
rain meets slick
wet end in
fruit bottom
fuzzed up
sky. I
have no use
in center.
I am asking to be held
then dropped
like violets
from a car window.