I knew with an announcement drawing near
left at the footsteps of salt tracks toward your bed
brought closer by the heat index of parents everywhere that left us, or you:
I've tried this.
I knew what it was like, four or five seconds in.
Spun like a catacomb.
Wrapped like an aunt's christmas tree remnants,
aim for the bottom.
Yesterday afternoon somebody in a serious tone turned seriously to ask me if I'd be born.
Be, not been, as if I hadn't already;
maybe wanted to, but needed help.
the creatures around here leave themselves almost daily
and from another town over your landlord holds up a sign with marker that says you'll get used to "pay'n".
Would you still wake a sleeping child to give them medication?
In so much as everything is only ever, a collection of other things?
The most important way, you can make someone feel is:
Act curious, for questions you know the answers to.