i go ballroom dancing and then

i walk to your house

at this point in my life, everything is within

walking distance

which is to say, everything looms

large in my vision

and everything hits close to the heart

with millimeters to spare

i think i know who you have a crush on, you say,

and proceed to guess correctly

you saw her and i sitting at a party

with our thighs touching

i had cake and vodka in the same

plastic cup

my life was an oil painting wedged in the mouth

of a lit fireplace

and the smoke poured out thick and fast

and deliriant blue

i sleep the night on your couch, nine fine-spun hours

with the moon’s hand on my chest

when i wake up it is too cold for me to walk home

in the skirt and tights i came in

so you lend me a pair of your pants and walk me home

as i wear your too-big pants

a few days later i return the pants, folded in fourths

on the edge of your desk

when you are not in school you sell, among other things, tulips

and squashes from your farm

you have an unspoken understanding with the world around you

your work is to coax

your gift is translucence

your sigil is water in the everlasting process

of becoming still

i fly into my rages or go terminal with love

and you’re there, annotating poems, stringing together glass beads

you fired in the craft center kiln

shitty beads by ben™ you call them

some are round and some look like

bits of pasta

one is a turtle and another is half-guy’s head,

half-dinosaur

i know you’ve hurt people in this life like everyone else

but still i touch my wrist joint to the wrist joint of your black dog

and say goodnight

knowing we will see each other soon