And she said over and over again—
there’s no place like it.

we only see what we feel emotional responses conditioned by this earth we are worms washed up on the concrete as a result of the sky’s catharsis after having relinquished emotions onto the earth we are vagrant once we find our way beneath the cracks once we find shelter in dirt after the vulnerability the humiliation is settled we begin to start anew crawl home pieces now of a ruthless whole a ruthless earth with its dizzying tendencies dizzying pride dizzying dancing he said, “please remember the dancing of the garden and the warmth of the sidewalk” I want to be the concrete I want to hold warmth in the palms of my small shaking hands


3 thoughts on “warmth

    1. why thank you! haha

      I find it difficult to go back to writing tamed poetry. It’s almost like a struggle to punctuate and line break now, which is actually kind of annoying since it used to be second nature to me.

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