I want you to blow through me
to match the coldness I hold
inside of this aging, weary body
held together by years of love

Weekends are time to
peddle softly into a
wide open field of grass

Unmade beds mirror
mussed morning hair
and rumpled sheets

A slow breeze glances
your hand dipping into
the blades beside you
and time opens up

I spend most days leaping
from one box to another,
making sure not to fall
into the blank spaces
that separate me from
the rest of the world

But sometimes, if we
allow ourselves to break
free from our dock,
the open sea is all
we need to find the
courage to swim free

It’s strange to look for
some kind of solace
in a puddle outside of
a nondescript building
on any road in this
city of wayward fog
and capsized humans

Pitch black, trees sway
Birds sleep in the night
I stare straight up into
the vast night sky
and all I see are
fireflies

Aimless, like a broken
weathervane on top
of a ramshackle barn
in the middle of a storm

Bodies wandering past
Minds so far away
Windswept and oblivious

Brushes of pollen
and dusty branches
echo in the distance
as the wind pushes
the clouds aside
to drop its breath
atop the slow haze
of errant wanderers

The clouds move
The trees sway
Aaron picks up dog shit
and the world tumbles by
through the window

A rhythmic display of time and space
intertwined with butterfly wings
looking like a parachuter's eyes
through the fear in their goggles