THE WORLD WAS NOT WORTHY OF THEM

I used to remember why.

what to chase, exactly?

micro naps at stoplights.

attached, now, like this?

    like so, like so; --

an expanse that can only be smothered by the dusting touch of my fingertips. 

far too much room to breathe. 

never only in one place. 

see, I’m writing this on the highway. 

my eyes are tired.

my nose is tired.

my ears are tired.

my hands are tired.

my tongue is tired.

but could we dove away in a sand cavern somewhere?

you and I, with strawberries and aranciatas.

living in caves and holes in the ground.