11.27.20
JAGUAR
tastes like passionflower
the dimlight walkway you never looked for
but traced the sweetest path forward
we see what we want to see
from the windows we sit in front of
but you’ve opened doorways
out of the in-between
with suit jackets, poems, and cityscapes
onto something better
more whole
when loss stops feeling empty;
now, it mirrors your heartbeat
it says “nothing is as it was.”
and we nod
knowing we’ve got trails, and paths, and walkways left unexplored
but, maybe for the first time, we learn
bridges don’t mean exit rows
the city at night looks enough like our stars
i chart them in my bloodstream
paint them olive juice and swoon