they told me to travel

when I’m older.

I think they didn’t know
that moving through someone else’s ordinary
creates the lens through which I see.

if aging is about growing
this is how I grow:

across difference
uprooting what was once cemented
with us and them.

teetering

between hopelessly hopeless and infinitely infinite. 

rewriting the same story over and over again.

the same thought swimming around in your mind,

“hey, i think i’ve seen that tree before.”

looking back to see 

you’ve been forever stretched, like a gum of rope,

from one end to another,

weathering a great and beautiful expanse – 

for what?

it is yet to be seen.

underwater

evening.

she spun herself underwater as if gravity were pulling her the other way around

as if the surface of the water were a looking glass into the sky

she touched it with her toe, walking on water, toying with the fabric of the universe

ripples like folds of blue

bubbles like the stars catching fire

swirls of purple majesty and wisps of a silver-cream

silence in slow-motion.

and then she stopped. and it was time to go.