231 Readings | 1 Rating


If I touched you, I know

I wouldn’t be surprised

by the feel of madrone,

smooth limbs draped in fabric.

The coolness of your bones

beneath what everyone sees.

We called them refrigerator trees

when we were growing up.

Strange red bark snaking toward the sky,

holding winters within. Branches

I’d love to be tangled in, 

singing the sea from the highest point,

breathing salt into you. I wouldn’t

be surprised by the lengths and corners,

unknown place I’ve already surveyed,

land whose form I’ve loved from afar.

Posted 06/24/19
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