Opens Wide

it’s a rainy day and the reins on the clouds continually sweep aside all conventionality in order to extend a light on
the pavement we find ourselves walking through cars and buildings
eyelids and grass blades, the

front lawn, trimmed a couple of weeks ago, and the
sprinkler blow out happens tomorrow, I’ll be
at the garden sitting with fine people talking about cookies and black tea,
shapes of meaning will continually appear, but
no one will be able to comment from the lips they stitch onto the windows
of our faces—now becoming
the street you grew up on, and

as we slide in and out of each others’ hips,
light within our hearts remains warm—night
encloses its cotton soft blanket, us, and the hands
of the moon lifts a lid of dragonflies, and we call this
one breath

at a time and a door opens


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