to be wild

next time you need me. i’ll be standing at the edge of your town, brown, behind heaving swarms of june bugs as the sun sinks.
when you need me with your skin soft and perfumed on the concrete, i will will myself to forget your form from behind the trees. i will drop my words and my gaze
with my dripping sweat like any old bastard, take a second look at my battered boots that are breaking up in the long shadows, and let it go
back towards the new moon rising over a warm-breathed forest that is vast and still in the evening heat.

May dreams: Under the falling sky

I woke up and it was revelations, my body ablaze with insects, the meek standing hungry at the threshold.
some of us known this day was a long time coming, the weight of so many days like this finally breaking the back of a world whose bruises and fractures had already mottled its skin past the turning point.
but upon rupture there was also this last rapture:
a brief moment of reckoning, of seeing light from the dark cooling earth beneath my stone. so here I held my bones close, awake,
and it was a blessing just to call
my savior’s name.