no one asked me to dance,
but i’m yelling along to my favourite songs in
the darkness of my garden and it doesn’t really sting anymore.
i have a smoothie in my hand // i don’t really like it,
but it’s still a smoothie.
moments flash in front of my eyes of
clawing and begging and hoping
and the grass beneath my feet
sobers me somehow.
i think about some astronaut
looking down and seeing me dance alone in my garden
and i let the thought go.
it floats away with the clouds.
i think about every missed opportunity,
every solar eclipse i didn’t see.
i think about the years i never had a tree
in my garden
and i find myself haphazardly balanced
at the top of our pear tree.
there’s crickets here (i’m dancing to their songs mostly)
and they sit with me, listen
to me drone about beauty
and things that don’t make sense.
my hair feels nice,
but i don’t have mirrors in my garden: i don’t see it,
but it feels nice.
my body feels nice. like a home
for the stardust funnelled in here.
my hands feel like they work
and my eyes are adjusted to the dark.
there’s a spider here with me,
telling me about her children and wife and
she smiles when she talks about them. she loves them all a lot.
it’s been some time since i’ve been smitten,
but existence is taking my heart.
oh, i desire existence, i crave love,
i crave being. i enjoy everything i am.
i am beyond in love,
i am out love i am with love
i am bisous and hugs
and xoxo and yours at the end of a letter
and remembering birthdays and reading poems
and holding hands
and touching shoulders and knowing my favourite food
and candles picked out carefully and warm christmas wishes.
i am everything i’ve ever hoped, i am asking myself on
dates i am promises that stay fulfilled
and i promise to love myself.
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