I’m tired of searching 
for all things 
hidden in plain sight,
I’m just trying 
to find my way home

They say with a pocket 
of keys all things 
turn out all right

better than being 
in the cold alone

I heat my hands 
on a cauldron of lost years,
lies of dreams, visions 
of tears

don’t let sunbeams 
detour around you,
intercept and receive
their flow

my solar plexus was warm 
next to your warm solar plexus, 
around your way, around your nexus
of the woods

Where the heavens 
about you would
constellate

pulse madly in rhythm 
realized over eons 
(if one could tap their foot,
thrust their hips,
keep time for so long)

under the vast night sky 
with the right pitch of darkness,
I can see you there!

cc: CC ‘23