It's right around the corner
I love that you do not ask
for what you have yet to get.
There really are no words to
request such a thing,
sticky and sturdy and sweet,
a car parked under a bullet proof sky,
a full cloud above
already green grass, floating suspiciously by,
a best friend wearing no mask,
a crown, the center of a tic tac, an open wound.
It's waiting for the perfect temperature, a powerful storm,
for the eyes of it to open
and feel warm. I'm here, and I'm ready, it will say. But not today.
It's right around the corner, packaged as a spring sunset, or a pelican's feast-filled dream,
natural, instinctive, perplexed.
It waits while we move
and helps make
all of this
easier for me
to maneuver through--the directions of you,
April echoes through magnetic walls.
I wait while you do,
of geese who fly East
and stars that twinkle till morning.