Tagged: hearts

our backyard is a

our backyard is a
patch of grass accessorizing
new york city, such

a small thing that makes all the
difference for our simple hearts
.
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the day before the

the day before the
day before
a new year, we
prepare to leave home,

bellies and hearts filled with a
certain kind of heaviness
.
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even at rest, we

in every moment

in every moment
of forgetting, hearts splinter,
words look for throats in

which to get caught, hands clasp and
unclasp, learn to build bridges
.
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y

every once in a

every once in a
while, it is like us to knock
on one another’s

hearts, ask for the password to
kindness, loneliness, patience
.
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hearts that stick it out

perhaps months,

perhaps months,
years from now, these
days will become
foggy, it’s how our
minds insist on
playing games with
our hearts – now you see
me, now you don’t

we have no choice as
witnesses, obligated
to make out every
fine detail in the
heightened haze
.
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