all the lavender and rosemary can obscure a certain magic // mossy feeling // regarding its own

shaky flame

[I enter the lifespace bearing a wish. The morning beams resilience. Dishes done. Waterbowls full. Later I will go to work, a post-glacial hunter hunting with stone tools for my own generative principle, epistemology of tellurian days.]

tiny flowers so touched and turn // shepherding branching, reeling in song // what an unexpected move

to reject a certain gloom // red aurora // analogy for the sun

[In the earliest stage, I wandered over hard ice panels knowing what I wandered was melting. I wandered alongside herds of herbivores thinking, what’s gone is inaccessible, eating plants and zipping my boots up for the day, wanting to be liked and understood even by strangers.]

but the reason I exist free for you to regard // it’s just that my life has been

[an isolated series of endeavors, into the open field, over the Bering Strait, from one continent to this, exterior climate stabilized, and inside, coffee and misgivings about the resultant slipway.]

I see the future milkmaid collecting creaminess // sprouting vines in fairy dust // it seems like you thought

I was going to try something // grab and pull you close // I’m comforted by deathcaps

by forgetfulness // birds on a cliff // shaky creature in my lap // this is a way for me to regard the liquid reel

[A longing to elucidate, pre-agricultural. I take what I find along the way, projectile points and scrapers, early human activity, the willow branch and houses made of brush.]