Do you need 

space? 

Do you remember when yesterday, 

We threw skipping stones across 

The river of regret until the sun 

Fell. The mouth 

Of the river was black. You told 

Me this was the first time 

Danger had spoken to you and you 

Had answered. The mouth 

Lies at the edge, where the 

Water meets an immovable

Hard place. 

—

Will you meet me there? 

At the center of this 

Memory dreams a field of green, 

Where you, newly young,   

And I, newly reborn,   

Paint ourselves into the grass 

Before the sun slips into the fingertips 

Of syntropy, before the dark 

Ground stitches together like patchwork 

Denim, sagging, breath boundless 

And unleashed, trampling 

All over the humming of voices 

Composited into clouds 

That puncture blue, laughter 

Opens like a wound 

Echo, a sound from the mouth 

Of delusion, the wind 

Listens to the music, 

Yellow leaves rising 

And watching the sun disappear, 

I feel I am part of a painting 

Which has already been sold, or at least, 

A memory that is very awake.

A woman limps with a chrome cane. Falling.   

Blue light, and siren, and smacking pavement. 

A green door with creaking hinges slams shut. 

Our eyes meet, and cars make fools of stoplights.  

Laughter. Everyone sitting in circles.  

Will you meet me there?