You may already know how to calm. It’s been two weeks
without negative
talk. Two weeks with no
terrible photographs, no spontaneous edge
of ocean or canyon or miles
of time. You went to the gate
when no one else would, when everyone
caught our collective
dilution. You woke up that morning after not
sleeping through any blue
flowers. You went in a dress
to be rescued from the roaring
story in your head and were given
a bed. Home is
as small as a few beating hearts
and both ends of the way I
live too, with the world
on its verge. You asked me once
how is everything in your perfect life
and true I walk through
the center whether or not it is brimming
with purity, but down
the hill, everyone is sewing up
limit so speech
is confusion. We are fewer. You are there now
to reason the way
you can breathe. Stay a while.
There, now. Everything has happened
and nothing may change.