heat, the sun, sand
beneath my toes

my head, words, the smell
of sweaty hair
underneath armpits
and backs

myself once again
hidden in graph paper
come alive through
watered ink smudges
on my skin

insects overflying fruits, a cat
petted him, fed him
named him as i liked
(Zánate’s the name
and i do hope he’s male)

a beetle on my pillow,
next to the quiet and peace–
i lost them both again
for i felt a spider
running down my pants
down whiter skin, untanned

hair in shambles, soul’s bricks
an irreverent cycle of time

that water, air, love
is all that you need
also a stove and some
utensils and cash
and paper and pens
and wi-fi
(but who’s counting, right?)

there’s power in numbers
and company
but also in solitude
and the finality of tears


under the shelf
comfortably hiding still

(Poem written in response to Mara Eastern’s Poetry 101 Rehab: Found)


4 thoughts on “found

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