lia fáil

is it envy that they:
            can walk away from a half-built sentence
            without needing to finish it

            don't fold their thoughts
            before putting them in drawers

            laugh without measuring
            how much sound is allowed in the room

envy always lands
like watching someone gobble on a peach,
juice, all drippy drippy down their chin

i wish somebody would teach me how to treat sweetness
like something i don't need to save

bending down
to tie shoelaces without thinking

we, who survived plagues,
check our own pulse sometimes

every beat a conjured hope,
like that one beautiful mess who vanished
into the paris night, leaving
only his taste behind

out in the field, shaker of salt in hand,
bodies remember
what red tomatoes hide

a neural poke sack of screaming stardust,
molding itself into trust muscles
that wise the wound
with courage work:
a cool wet seed turning hot scorched earth

take my spine you midnight crawlers,
my belly recollects the way

in full, bright ache what remains after the human
is the road,

itself
home_