stretch a flood so wide it catches everything. And we find each other whole and sacred, alive and breathing and breathing and breathing.

Notes in staccato igniting instrumental waves of burning wood, a fiery spark over and speck dust played in harmonics, as a coot hovers over a brook dives in comes back with a fish.

The sagging hoop bemoans a need to squeeze, its craving for a breath within the ring.

Circle the verbs. Imagine inserting “by zombies” after each one.

sand in her teeth lapped by aftermath lying exhausted slowly approaching the condition of music

while I missed the first few seconds of a song I’d hoped to record on my backseat boombox.

but you don't or you can't and after a week, it's gone forever.

Silence is the sound the knife makes slitting the skin.

april is a dog's dream the soft grass is growing the sweet breeze is blowing the air all full of singing feels just right

Stood around like a dope in my punch-colored dress, clutching your box to my chest.