you have it in your bone, a penchantfor relevancy. we talk a, b, c and d.you are a wall, we don’t go to e.
in the thick of a saturnine verse, thereyou barge in. a sticky note of glaze.balmy. words smell summerly.it’s a battle to ward you off.
earlier in my verse, i made us to sitat the edge of your cliff-house.evening light quietens a-b-c-ds, deodars.and then i let us topple over,
off-guard, down the wall.grasses softening us back and forth, back forth.we are two cobblestones, scooped-out ofverse, rolling down to drink the river.
stop. quell the yearn. hold the wallhigh against tender things.
i retreat.three steps back in my verse,one step towards the wall.being sad.being happy.i am vulnerable in-between.
this is how I fall, back and forth, back forth, back forth…
you are relevant tomy porous bones,the ‘e’ things in myunfettered verses, this side of the wall.
(deodar : Himalayan cedar)
Photo by Johannes Plenio on Unsplash