It’s very likely that

Maybe it was when
the devil himself forgot
what the sin was.
Drunk on desire and lining
the best vices up in a row
for the exploding galaxies
to expand into.

Which is to say, maybe
it was the yes you say
over and over and over
until the sky changes color.
Or, when the stars
opened in a kiss on the street.

Maybe it was the empty
handed falling apart,
when we were
swallowed in the worry
that eats at the heart.

Which is to say, maybe
it was the night
I chased the full moon
as far as my car would
drive up the canyon
and still was too early
for even that amount
of shining light.

Maybe it was when you asked
who is the you in the poems
and there was no way I
could answer because
the yous are always the
entire universe gripped
in the palm of my hand.

Which is to say, maybe
it is when I ask the question
‘I have no idea who you will become to me”
in my chest with each inhale
the moment a stranger
steps in front of my arms.

Maybe it simply reforms,
transmutes, alchemizes
every person I have ever held.
The seven years of cells
regrown into something
that no longer feels familiar.

Which is to say, maybe
it’s just the wonder
of the question.
A thought so filled
to the brim with lightening
possibility like every
single person could fill me
so wholly no lid could
ever contain the thunder
and rain that comes before
and after the storm chasing.

Or maybe, it becomes
a lack of oxygen that
could simply suck us dry
until the smallest of flames
just. stops. breathing.

Which is to say, maybe
that’s how I became
the matches.

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