From the length of my arm you extend the air—
trickling breaths, each follicle branching
toward my chest where beating,
I am beaten within
and can do no more
When do we stop mentioning growing pains?
My stretches yield marks on the skin
these days. Nobody grieves like the marked
they can’t keep their scars from the world.
To you, each day I am brave and do not hide
the ways I have given in.
Who’s to say what all this means?
That we are still together at arm’s length.
Our truth is
we have each worn ourselves into the bed
leaving grooves each day, each year
we are together, the same as two thickened trees
Up that mushroom
you call a nose is fungal
It's pleasant. Take a sniff.
Nostrils and hair like a jellyfish, spieling
Two cave entrances wafting cool breezes—
hints of bears shuffling
out of damp hibernation.
I'm not telling you
where the little scissors are.