#freeverse

—filled with eviscerated time, it skews the mind.

There are a thousand voids littered in concrete, labyrinthine, turned ouroboros,

we run in circles in the silo,

we cycle, we— the spiral of life, tied into every centennial tree-ring and coalescing tide, whirlpooling into the yawning solstice,

equating equilibrium —charted course haunts, compass falls deep into the silo...

I remember Alice...

We all remember something, but we forget the silo over and over again, it falls away,

it doesn't bend,

it never bends, somewhere in un-memory it stands.

We— hold hands, in a field that has no end.

I've come to believe that you like to stain your hands with strawberry jam and chocolate ice cream. Maybe it was the way you looked at me with your rosy-stained cheeks and chocolate-covered lips, as though sticky sweetness had found a home on your skin. Or maybe it was how you never seemed to mind the mess, wearing it with the confidence of someone who knows life is anything but neat.

I like to think we reveal ourselves in little ways like this, not through grand confessions, but through the small traces we leave behind. A laugh that lingers for a second too long. Fingers sticky with summer. The habit of savoring instead of rushing.

Suddenly you are there.

the highest peak

of the tallest mountain

waves flowing green

and tides pulsing

you against the winds

back and forth in

motion

that slowly

ceases

and slowly

dies.

Only the heaving breath —

hard pounding heart