Discretionary Love

Look backwards. Time is only a long unspooling of silhouettes of planets & comets & extinction events, of wept tears & frigid nighttimes, ghostly imprints

The wind was a black howl your dress faded blue the sky turned Northern Lights green & that’s not what I remember. Close the door;

We lived next door, her a widow me the same raised families together but separate for many years our kids played sports together went to

you might’ve seen me over the years // in the house nine of us lived in on East Frambes Avenue // the one with the

Red like mailbox flags raised up patriotically, boasting  of love letters and pen pals, of licked envelopes and sacred stamps. Red like brake lights, glowing

For Spencer and Tatsuya Two AM. He calls while riding his bike home. The bartender is a good listener, he says. I listen through wind

let me borrow your warmth for a moment is that a thing people borrow? sure how? like this kuru kuru in the night felt like

They hit in the Seattle dawn— two strikes. Sunny morning there. Here, I don’t remember, mid-September, maybe sun. I was a student, swaddled in reasoning,

                          after anna akhmatov i drink to our failed love, to the song-less

I wanna be your glass of water. I wanna be the raindrop that fell from the cloud above our pastoral. I wanna be the raindrop