Thursday, April 27, 2023


Even after 
having lived here 
for years, 

there's only one 
truth I can claim: 

the walls may 
not change, but I'm
never the same. 

Like some incipient 
larva—like a pupa 
I climb, 

blind, toward 
the guileless spire
of modulation:

a feeling with no corners,
never known, 
only felt-for.

Until one day, I'm up here 
on the roof 
of this place, 

with the feeling 
I could love everything 
in the space:

all the carbon 
and oxygen; 
every lump, every groove.

But not too much—
I'd only love it 
just enough,

because that way, 
there'll always be 
some stuff 

left in the 
tank when I make 
my next move.