In the beginning was lake
salt on our skin, wind deep
breathing with us in grass.
That was years ago, when
the woods were as open
to being endless as we were.
I want to be lost again
in a labyrinth of pines–
fighting our way through
cicadas singing lovesongs–
to find the water, and
emerge needing your air.
(originally published in talking about strawberries all the time, Fall 2020)
organ of the trees ring
the heart’s synthetic beating
the stepstep crunch
of leaves a drumbreathe
tenderly
the forest i lose
me the eye leaves
somewhere someone sees me
whose real
branch
of body
how corporeal the limbs
these purple nights return
(originally published in Kettle Blue Review, Fall 2018)
