The photo of us in the woods,
then the blurry-blue expanse beyond it.
Suddenly my tongue feels bitter.
The half-dreams hang overhead,
the only thing I want is time.
I’m standing before I realize it.
What rocks cross my soles
in my tread to make time.
I wonder what else they’ve felt.
What souls fill this sidewalk
our finish lines aligned.
I stir through the mass like water.
Class feeds thought as fodder.
How hot tomato soup tastes
with my skin shrouded by fibers.
I love this episode.
How a decaf brew smells
even richer to a rhythm.
The expanse sits stiller than ever.