don’t need a cleaner

IMG_0058.jpgthese second floor

windows have held together

in the frames

of this wall longer

than i’ve breathed.

 

and what’s dirt?

you could wonder,

when we’re all thinner,

dirtier, than we’d

admit

 

holding life we can’t know,

reflecting

moon from our cheeks

when turned from the sun.

 

when you meet ground,

when your eyelids have eclipsed pupils,

will you be able to say to

open earth

 

i’ve been here before? held soil

in my pores, noticed this

ecosystem

 

before joining it

in a different form?

 

 

 

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