i sit at the edge of the window

so dizzyingly close to the glass i feel i might tip over

and exhale my warm breath into gritty sands

that bend and crack, adjusting to my weight

looking up at night

and seeing the constellation’s constant revelations

to me, and i think about

waterfalls, sliding down over rocks

their banks clustered with shamrocks and shiny green ferns

trees opening their hands, exposing their organs to

unsuspecting hummingbirds with needle thin beaks

feeling the warm puff of my cat’s soft pink nose

as he leans against me, his cheek to my arm

rumbling his sleepy melody into the curve of my elbow

oblivious to the complexities

his owner must untangle

the cold slips into my stomach and stops my throat

leaving me in a tundra of frozen desires and destructions

watching as i grind my hand so hard on asphalt

that my skin unfurls its

lovely crimson dew

like droplets on a leaf.

i may not know much

i may be human

but simplicity is my felicity.


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