if reason was a sweater it would be a worsted weight wool cable knit turtleneck in heathered grey

at times

I’ve shrugged off reason

prickly and toowarm against my skin

 

I’ve followed love up and down this coast

 

poetry evaporated from the surface of my bare skin

in the swampy streets of

boston summer

 

I’ve never been grounded in a place enough to feel home, not just call it that.

 

now

as the seasons change

I calm my racing heart with organized

memories of places I’ve lived

filing each building store street name cinderblock chicken blueberry bush

(yep)

into their correct order

 

at times I’ve shrugged off reason

enough that

now

I am trying not to

strangle myself with it

 

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