turn, and I will sprint desperate
lungs over legs
your shadow a bouncing searchlight

I need time
your outline, your open mouth
you never let me

hide in a gloam of juniper and spruce
needles and moss, damp patches
decompose the controvertible
branches alive with ants
stepping in time onto highways of my hair
my belly aches to lie quiet, furniture
of bees, blanket of crumbling clay

I want the silence of lichens imperceptible
millennia in my path, running a timeline
an interstellar clothesline
so long am I still
years pile up fast

snow squalls ever whiten
finger twigs, dry grass stare
buried limbs move inches glacial erratic
I want to say, hang on now
let’s take a moment but already
the river is under the bridge
ice crystals decoupling
thin patinas reflecting pieces of sky

even if I jump, I will flurry
shotgun shock avalanching
my arms thrashing tree stumps
my lips faint beacons
my heart aloft, a cloud of boulders
freeze-framed, weightless
I’ll hit the water
a quiet of stones