tree poem

i asked her 

where does

the wind 

come from

and where 

does it go

but she laid there

on her back

in the sun

quietly

for a long time

 Z

somethin abt it IS nothin

rings tru/ fish breathe what yall breathe

a gallon of crude oil/ read an email

and well that was generous + kind of 

the time it takes me away

from here where home was until

we made it a house/ painted shell

emptied by agreement disguised as love

gently pushes our bodies into a flame