not yet manifest
i've been thinking of you in
wild flowers, sweet tea
we stare into space
city bus commuter cadets
needling through time
urban turbulence
to shuttle me home, so slow
most low flying jet
your absence is smoke
gray taffy pulled from fire from
embers still burning
the break in the floor
shows old paint the color of
old bones split, pale. dust.
in pursuit of more
or just the quarry itself
i'm deeply exposed
i have climbed this face
and for what then? give me lip
an edge to leap from
perfect trees, tall, call
i wanna run through your legs
a cat through a crowd
curled up cats napping
a quilt of soft grasses
hills warm to the touch
i am alone as
i chose to be, always. now,
a wolf in a pack.
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