when you turned the corner, your frontside in the sun was enough to start fires
somewhere near, a mother is settling, and you've learned how to feel like you can save her
So why are you still setting fires?
you go looking and can't help but feel your geographic immunity being compromised
bushes ablaze remind you of dreams where you lay down and become trees
your roots are still warm this way
your roots could carry what this woman needs
So then why was she settling?
some cherries grow
and others, they'll burn
through fabric and hearts and
homes made of wood
This was never your fire.
You measure them incorrectly.
Can I trust you to remember soft?
For when they ask us to believe?
Head up, eyes closed, nose toward the sun;
you can find you can find you.