we are the blur in a photograph

​

love is found

between the bounds

of backgrounds and stages,

behind tattered curtains

guarding quiet spaces;

​

tucked into forgotten corners

of faraway places,

here

is one moment

and

here

are we;

 

the instant

our backs turn

to bedroom mirrors

and you find the switch

rapturing light

into darkness,

you reveal the

us

hidden by

everyday faces

in a field on a windy day

​

                                         in a field on a windy day,

tasting the tip of my tongue

are words that have no shape

beyond the blank space between

text and

                                  margin

​

set in small typeface,

letters are presently absent

inventions outside intention

and expression: caught, arranged

​

                                                               “i love you”

 

i wish i could remember

the first time

i let go

of a kite—

 

i am certain

the sky swallowing

the string was more

expressive than any sound

i can utter

fireflies

 

to catch pieces of you

i must first presume

to set aside the metal lid

to which i cling

for fear i would otherwise shatter

 

for if the confines of my mind

are displaced

they may make space

for the only things that matter

allowing you to enter:

 

firefly in a glass jar