SHOULD YOU WANT A SHAWL FOR THE NIGHT
(As the temperature drops, and your foot measures light)
Where better to retire, than to a forest floor?
“Unto thee I bequeath my decomposition.”
- Laugh it off, iboy, or I’ll drawer you in compost.
In like shrooms
brooming deep.
Some leftie you turned out to be!
The source of guilt is not giving it all away.
Just try taking it away...
Every territory deeded to “Personal Use Only.”
Was fear on the in-breath?
Spreading out the tarp, sleeping length
across bedrock. The first transparency of H2O:
Our dreams split along a jagged seam.
I loved them both, but I can’t say
If we were singing “harakiri” or “Hare Krishna.”
The trees had grown taller overnight
and moved closer together.
Arose from the dank place of pain in your chest,
a charitable hue of greeting.
1.24.2020
for Michael Chorney