Breadcrumb #495
KIM DIETZ
I love you, we should try to sleep
And rest from absolving ourselves
In the opalescent curtain of the half-grin moon
I love you, we should try to sleep
Before we lose control of our tongues
And wake, teeth clenched like a stone wall,
Unable to look into the eye of the brewing storm
I love you, we should try to sleep,
But you know that I can’t
Since the haunt burrows itself deep within our roots—-
Where we may never wake up to feel the way we did
When the cool grass swaddled our naked bodies
When we listened to the sky boundlessly call out to us
When the white cranes soared and disappeared into the stillness
Into the starling’s distant song
Into the ripple of the waves against the rocky shoreline
Into the passing plane above
Into the oyster shells reclaimed by the tide
Into the soft, floating dandelion seeds barely skimming the surface of our skin—
I love you, we should try to sleep
For I am reminded of how easy it is to lose our way
In the blockades we’ve built before us
In the ones we choose not to destroy
If we decide to guide each other
Through the celestial footpaths that cascade through time
And nurture the tree until the branches bloom
From within, we may find our home.