影

Clouds set parallel to structures
Celestial architectures, puffy balconies
Saprophytes on lively dead trees
I pray for intimacy with your city to be shallow
For there its bowels are not bleeding rusted
Some deaths, a ship’s wake and a plow’s furrow
Some deaths, apologies for wrongs and a cement flow

For futures to be erected, for futures to grow

Chamomile, CBD and nightly unease
Soccer chants, parakeets and hazy bodies
A harsh craft in naked sailing
Gliding through woolen curls and knots
Without infection, without loss
Break into places of hear with your Narcissus Garden
Jump out of the moving bus with your eyes
Shifting how your teeth are grinned for menacing warmth
At every soul flickering through the double-decker
Running over the pointed fingers of teasing teenagers
Running over the pointed feet of homeless men
Slumped in azurely dimly lit station looking empty halls
The warring eyes of men stumbling around
The bubbling rapidity of fermenting scared faces
Rushing through empty monumental avenues
Rushing faster through ones with tiny wardens

Like I’ve been held in days of fog
A man holds a baby over soft abyss, they
Watch a man throwing bags of routine past
The man turns, smiles, waves, turns
The baby, unprepared, now feels part of the scene
The sudden weight a cloudburst collapse
The shift from being held to holding
Flowers, at the door, red, purple, yellow
In different times to reach the same conclusion
Something’s alive beyond the bricked door in the brick wall
The sinuous line of inconsistency is the song of scars and seasons
Acupuncutured nests bemoan nettles
Seen is the angel who recounts the improper glow of gratitude