trying to outsmoke a gnome by the creek but he keeps managing to distract me with his rosy cheeks and playful demeanor

little by little i will save my life and the rot in my stomach will swell into something sweet and it’ll sit on my tongue and i will think to myself how silly it is to wallow when there is a sun that shines and hands that reach for other hands. little by little i will remember every vessel in me bears the promise that most sweet things shall stay alive for as long as i live alongside them. little by little i will leave my head for the real world and i will fearlessly dangle my feet on tall grass and without hesitance reach for a star knowing with absolute certainty that i can never hold it close or call it mine and that it’ll never love me back or yearn for me half as much. so here we are, me and my hope, and our only means of staying tethered together which is through the little by the little. little by little i will save my life not as some monumental course-altering endeavour of bigness and bravery and prettyness like in the poems… but by simply putting my life in warm clothes.

Thinking about Bruce’s eating dome