Oops there I go again being myself. Silly me, showing my intentions. What can I say about my incongruous behavior. To tell you the truth I always thought I wanted to be someone. To keep up with connections and clean my house. But it turns out I’m in love with life. Obsessed with it. And now I’m laughing way too hard at everything. Squatting in the flowers taking pictures. Disconnecting calls that interrupt the shot - and I’m sorry but I’m not. It’s all slipping out of me. I’m in lust with the sun. It’s melting me like honey. I’m full of bees, sweet and sticky. This is my life and it goes with me like butter.

I pull loose cotton from stalks. I feed it through a loom and weave indescribable mishaps. Sweaters with three arms and pants with no foot-holes.

They’re dyed strange colors.

You wear them anyways; you say you like them. I have a lump in my throat. You must have three arms and inconsolably cold feet.

tell me about the time the rain
lost its balance and didn’t have to fall

didn’t have to carve out the ocean
with two cupped hands

in this version
you are not a martyr

the world doesn’t cut you
like an open mouth

it’s not always best         you know
to see the best in people

save a river                      by jumping in
it doesn’t make sense, does it?

your name is written on my tongue
my name is spelled out in coffee stains

your hands are on my hips
holding me together

my heart is always reaching
always falling out of my chest

falling as in falling
always as in once