Will there still be cicadas?

do not try

do not go back

or gather stones

or take up slack

not to remember

when

dropping pebbles into gutters

is all the wrong was dealt.

To think on it

I hang out your window,

and when the long shadows have reached the shore,

find myself exploring paths traced with only a gaze,

that direction opposite one's feet.

It may go on like this.
Adventures robbed with

No explanations to questions never asked,

anything to halt that sinking.

August finds me a mermaid, 

surviving

on cicadas and sunlight.
on cicadas and sunlight.

From faraway

My memories of you are all yellow.
I'm rolling upright and open,
passing between structures
and under canopies,
and through the swimming sunlight
guided by a gravity of recollection,
every one a new mix of the old same
everything here is new and the other things all resurface in another place,
comfortable but fresh
different and unexplored.
Movements newly golden, easy as breath.
I feel the gaze of your thoughts on me;
I don't want to disappoint.

     
Yours was an undying ember growing into a lake
one could surely swim the depths of.
You would want them, too.
The licking waves that pull at the shore
taste all the hunger of a slow burn.
Time spent in the minds of others is your seated throne.
For all my wanting,
my strength could not match your power.
Stop checking your watch.
Sit. Draw me in again.

lilies of the valley

Coals pop; bits crackle when the morning fog rolls in
and you tug on that golden thread once more.
Past the thicket and back through the marsh,
across the prairies you planted and the trails you cleared,
the slack is drawn in, your first knot tightens and thrums a response,
right over your hollow and across your bow,
a deep resonating bass echoes in your chamber and amplifies unnumbered times.
When your lungs fly out of you like an owlet trying for wind
and you still can't find the way to draw enough into them
and your belly is heavy with anticipation,
know that there is nothing you can anticipate.
You need only stand tall,
twist among the birch and keep the arrow steady;
be with it in it's moment of flight,
splicing atoms, hurtling through the void.
Live in that moment and push at it from all sides,
expanding it continuously.