from bed, groggy

jack hammers hit the floor as i close the door and contemplate the endless question “what for”

why do i write of loss and pain lightening disasters and fleeting rain when moments i claim are spent walking with flowering dahlias caught in green house clusters providing a memory when daylight fostered times i spent with you and you and you

home

that’s four of us looking in drawers to discover the way we can be if left alone in our freshly

planted tree born from seeds that joined in figure eights-fantasies’ perfection in infinity clashing with hope that dashed from end zone to end zone waiting for a whistle

that never comes

we did it

this thing

we can’t be done

we’re doing

pronouns to puncture the singularity of gobbling guilt from every family dinner plate knowing we can’t be late to the very important date that rabbits whisper in our ear

we’ll rise together from this table

more stable and able to disable the. fake eyebrow gleams of bellyaching screams searching for a wall to bounce from

and back

and forth

and back

now north

and back

we go

to challenge the undertow and swim free

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