pick a cloud,
there're three inside your eyes;
& too many sidewalks to fill a night,
but the broken moon
with all its busted clocks
& clever looks
can never return you
to the inner child.
the walls are shinier
on the other side;
old highways and new trails
through an ancient lake.
with a tongue of its own
speaks in circles;
love makes you dizzy
& you end up on the ground.
i keep blades of grass
in my back pockets
to cut through the memories;
shadows are like dead relatives,
friends i've lost along the way
& the strangers i've met in passing
that i'll never see again.
i keep them all like coin collectors
hoarding stamps and rings.
each love affair is a different life;
every parting of the lips a reminder
of how many times i've died,
lived again & started it all over.
the parts of me that are missing
make me whole.
i take deep breaths when i'm remembering,
then tuck my eyes into my dreams
& let go.
in my secret body,
i am both always & never