please just stop (a dreaming thing of half moons
that I saw in a sunny orb, a thing that melted when
I exhaled and then malted into nothing.
and you, ahh ahh you
you caught on my eyelashes and I blew upwards
to free you from a spidery tangle.
you did not melt and I caught what was left in a cage of
limbs and loves and leaves pressed between pages
(once a goodbye for this I am sorry sh sh
oh god shh)

we wilt
made for summer and spring and you do not
melt when I exhale so press down right there! ah! yes!
a pin to the corner of the bits that try to fold under.
keep me from the river that flows to the mouth of a
sea. I have pockets full of stones
and in January I walk towards the horizon.
keep me here because you are waterdrinking
flowerloving handholding and all of the things that make me bold.)
holding your breath in the morning
the curve of my waist will not melt beneath your
fingers.