SHORT SIDE

and I know who I am.

the one who brings water in the desert. 

"oh wait, I forgot my -"

I hand it to him,

keep on walking past the words.

a wave offering.

golden sheaths of grain

champagne chiffon like the flapper girls we yearn to save

come away, come away

I find you before the sun comes up.

past imprints verbalize the strokes of graphite

milestones cascade onto smeared paper

that I know who I am.

talk to me about slavery

and how it makes your story beautiful.

you sold yourself away.

new wave, new wave

high tide, low tide.

lauren says to document it all

so I engrave, I press play

come away, come away

those aren't mountains, they're waves.

and we see from such great heights

when we park at magnolias under the bridge

and smile from the short side.

RAEDOLYN IS YOURS

when you take care of my frame like this it feels

like it felt on aberdeen avenue at night

but tilted straight, not dutch

I wake up at three in the morning and choreograph it all with you

"is that your sheep?" asks david ochoa.

he can't stop smiling with red eyes.

we're going to start a church, they say

and I blast guts by augustine

I sail toward the airport and past and future

"does that prius fly?" asks jaco.

he can't stop smiling either.

and I take shelter from the rain in this strange coffee parlor

not knowing how beautiful this poem is about to be

but knowing, suddenly,

through sunburned skin

that this could be their hotel.

you saved him under a magnolia

and you're saving me with a sheep

and you build it beautiful.

my friends dance like I did at three in the morning

they yell and throw banners through the air

stomping amidst fire and color and nursing their children

"do you wanna see my room?" asks annabelle. asks rebekah.

we're all getting ready for a wedding.

our anniversary is coming up.

and I miss my family in the sea of blue

the melted ice of the rockies

"are you going to live in texas?" asks kodee.

I see her out the window, playing with the flowers as I pack everything I own into my car

she tilts her head to match the angle

as I drive through the heart of dallas laid low

under the rainy mist of voting day

I dive deep, to deep, to deep

rock my head to rhythm

astounding worlds rocking with me as I swim

swallowed in the see

stewards of the mysteries of god.

LIMIT LESS

anoint me with the oil of gladness.

I feel the shell of the seed.

weakness to win the weak.

run, run, run

but only one receives the prize

could I run forever?

is that what it is to fly?

she found the good thing

oil and tears at your feet

intimacy, suffering, reverence

burn everything of me

every word that you speak

is wine flowing through my teeth

first love, first miracle

you are my obsession.

NOT NOTHING (HEART BEAT)

how can I contain you

when you contain everything?

the only way out is through.

that you use things that are not

to bring to nothing things that are.

I'd rather womb swim

side to side to follow your voice

my newborn lungs burn at the rush of oxygen

temporary, temporary,

build me a fort and a body

speak to me in my dreams, lover

they say

had you known it would be this way

would you still have said yes?

it's yes, it's yes,

it's years upon years upon years.

it's called a heart beat.

WORSHIP

and you say it is worship

to kneel down by morning lamplight

and gather the fallen white leaves

a new day,

and we plow, and we ache,

maranatha.