The panic dreams ask me
what they should do
with my collar bones
while I sleep.
*
I wake in four mornings
in a row
with no memory of
where I am.
I am trying to describe…
*
The pearl of the oyster
sometimes doesn’t
reveal itself until you
bite down, break teeth.
*
I gave myself over to
gravity a long time ago.
Pushing me through
currents I can’t name;
have no desire to name.
*
I am coiled inside a cloud.
Moths pouring from
my lips with watery tails
reminding me I will
never be made solid.
*
In all the ways
we can not be held.
In all the ways
I am always enough.
In all the ways
I reach out like we’ve never met.
*
Maybe we only break
open once. Wrap ourselves
in silk spiderweb,
complete acceptance —
fated bloodletting.
*
I love
the color of water.
You’ll never
pin it down.
In The Way 
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