there is a Hebrew saying that means: the world is a narrow bridge;
the most important thing, not to be afraid. yet the night here begins

to forget itself, and there is fear in the darkness. you have your gloves on, thud-
squish, my heartbeat as heavy bag. i sink slowly, unrepentant.

the air stickens, and like good fighters, we each face the lightning alone.
a coolness rises off the river, wishing it were the sea. tideless, i

am drowning in the honeysuckled tears of a frustrated blue-green.
the march of dandelion clocks ticks onward, dug-in: six months, some-

odd days and twenty-seven seconds. slow mornings filigreed into chains
of summer hunger; wonder if when i reach its length, i will still find you waiting?