06.01.22

I hold rare sparks of joy
so tightly they burn me.
I want the marks
to remind me it was real

06.02.22

my vertical motion has never stopped.
on instinct I climb and climb, even
with my gaze trained on the ravine.
muscle memory knows what to do

06.03.22

how do you enter a burning house
if not for reincarnation?
everyone seeks the moment where
you become fire itself

06.04.22

too many stillborn ideas
are buried in my yard.
someday one will make it to term
someday the mother won't starve

06.05.22

was that it?
did you fix me
at that great summit of feeling?
without air I felt unreal

06.06.22

I awoke to realize
that my grief had died sometime
during the night.
my dreams were meadows

06.07.22

last year
I fell in love with my body,
my splendid capsule
conveying light materialized

06.08.22

this is rebel joy,
greatest act of defiance.
I am water flowing
brisk and bright and growing

06.09.22

what is fortune and experience gained,
yet not shared,
but the luxurious lining
of the rich man's casket?

06.10.22

we will all leave scars on this world
but we don't know whether they'll be
suture-marks of careful mending or
the hostile catastrophe of survival

06.11.22

I am in the world's heartbeat
I am a participant in its
steady human thrum that I
grasp like a chain in both hands

06.14.22

are we disposable?
are we all single-use
grocery shelf items
wrapped in colorful skins?

06.15.22

what is easily obtained is easily lost
what has value in a life made of wind
where each fleeting moment is eroded bare?
only nomadic hearts survive

06.16.22

I ache not for that paper past
too much time spent painting over
chasms beneath our feet
instead of patching them

06.17.22

the shadow rides in
on a nightmare's smoldering hooves
it draws a long curtain over the dead
and what cannot be reclaimed

06.18.22

my hands will be made of
steady can-do attitude and
splinters of homes self-built and
promises ready to be kept

06.19.22

you'll meet people who'll restore
you'll meet people who'll reduce
your faith in the human spirit
and you will love both of them

06.20.22

I dream of a body
water-kissed cool and soft
there's something godly in the
marbled streams that ready

06.21.22

sensitive--
not quick to anger, but
attuned to details that
texture a life

06.22.22

I want to cook for people
I want to create and provide
life and refuge at the end, a
home anywhere in the world

06.23.22

I tell them:
you are always worth more than
the appraisal of those who
won't appraise themselves

06.24.22

strangers to love always seem to either
contain floods of it
or unending drought.
I want to be rainfall