The way Earth moves here
an easy roll of jagged rock
across a film reel and
endless gray, or lush green
or blue—my favorite blue
and the nights are thicker
without you here
heat from my own breath
my own sweat
my own pulse in my ears
a rhythmic syncopation
with the cicadas and
the river
– the water bending in such a way
that hugs the banks
washes my dirty feet clean of
my journey, grasps my hands as I drop
to palms and knees and plunge
my memories into
sand and stone, scoop coarse
grains to my flesh and
exfoliate each piece of you, your
company; rinse to find the smoothest
the loudest aloneness
then trace my steps back
up the path to a single
wooded room
and wait for
something new
hear the
easy beating of
just one heart

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