through the screen door,
the garden tiles start to blush &
winter settles back into the earth,
choking summer on the way up / down.
i place stones in lieu of remembrance,
pulling damp grass aside. we crack open
the gates into both our eyes, mouths
gaping to honour what was never good
to us, as best we can.
wind peels the newly orange clouds apart, pale
& thinning. citrus rots in the cool dirt,
next to 7 half-baked burials & 2 piles of bones.
i read that it'll keep people from migrating too far as
the seasons start to overstay & blink by all at once, but
no one makes it out of limbo without
circling back a million times over.
we'll birdwatch from the window— chittering
warnings between salty lips— for as long as it takes
to pull god from your mouth. i'll stop
the door for you, fingers & breeze & tongue out-
stretched. all eager
& all waiting.
a/n: an underwhelming return but im feeling Bitter and Angry so im trying ! i have officially graduated so i have basically no excuse to avoid writing all summer so PLEASE pester me abt it. expect a poem abt criminal minds & another abt booksmart at some point probably
