it hovers, horizon of worn time
i would lay down in fields of warm settings & if the moon
says i need you, cresting the rooftops of abandon
where we travel to be able to breathe & below sea level still
high enough up & you can see the whole bend in the river
ghost barges stirring up February fog round the edges of their cut paths
call & response from the next roof over, we’re all out here leaving
something behind, write my name on it for a lifetime, for this life
folded into you, the way some of us get left out of the picture
crosses the choice that some of us leave on our own if love
isn’t what you think it is: You’ll never be as free as when
you let go of all you think you’ve learned here
asphalt shingles held us to a gripping, if you want to be inside me
under that full moon, we need to be high enough
that i can see my city, the way i tied my life to her
the way i could come up under her, a rushing of water
is where my life spooled out, a rushing of wanting to feel everything
there are types of desire that undo you, then there are types of wanting
that carry you far enough to find them— some of us live in the interstices
knowing all of this is temporary, steal what you can carry
plunder the rest
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