a thing of god

Assurance settles as

morning mist, the

exhalation of the

warming earth, the

churning dirt, an

ungraspable above

the ground.

And the meandering

road ahead has tilted

to merely how?

We never asked to be happy;

only for each other,

and ours is a bloody, lustful

marriage, a thing of God.

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for nicolle

We listened and we heard in the space between us, a small garden with many new things: curving meridians and underworlds and iridescent dreams, shoulders to chest like a liturgy. One is when we are to


There are moments I remember that even the schools of crickets are multitudinous, and that waiting for the rain makes the sun too bright. I discover new shapes every day: green ones, gold ones, secret


Conversations with Jesus on the front porch. So many worries. That's true, he says. Everything moving by things I can't see. But perhaps, he says, you can. And under it all? You'll remember, he says.