july – Thistle Thoughts

Beached

I walk slowly,
collecting jagged
seashell thoughts

The city noise ordinance
keeps vibes low

Safety in a midnight swim.

teleport me to new terrain

there are brittle
cicada shells beneath
our feet, i’m in them,
i’m a shade, an exoskeleton

It’s been twenty four minutes since the last time I’d ever see you again.

I’ll never be a famous poet

forbidden closeness / pure proximity /
one hand on my shoulder / nothing
but gymnasium breeze on my
lace draped waist