and rejoices seamlessly
by this body, a child seamless
dress me with your melancholic articles
clean this breath with your ads and pitfalls
and coming home
i have seen the pragmatic river
and it carries my name
the family
will it always be this wandering
away, to become a lonely vessel
hard pressed, then, to find supposed answers
the ones given to me by moonlight
and fanciful dreams
this cavern, i have come for rest
by no arms, nor medicine
dragged around
drugged and lifeless
for inside, a tomb is carried and filled
and to empty, is to heal
by our mouths
filled with butterflies, this chest, cocoons
and dynamite
we destroy instead of disassembling
the look, the awareness, the legacy,
the possibility of work and care,
careful trespass,
walking armless with no home to build or destroy,
harmless, these arms
there is no will to succeed
but the will for intention
the will to survive
a crusted foundation
brought to light by every twist
and exchange, every fire
and every frozen block of ice
build we must, or die,
die we must to the muscles which strain
and seek this urban ease with abandon
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