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July 7, 2021

Do you want to leave this island
The ocean does not care
My brochure says our tracks
Will ribbon up to the sun
What a relief to have this seat
And the door at the end of the carriage to run to
When things get warm enough to know
The path of fire in the windowpane
A touch, a sign to fling past
All the bluish stars barely pulling
—But we will speed up soon
And hardly register those distant lights bending their careful courses
To catch a glimpse of us

February 3, 2021

   warps the rain
slips in glow
plum of skin
on discovered bone
my almost flesh
grim or sweet
to the air before
the breath after
this tame morn
I cannot rinse 
the what if
pit of it