Like trees,
We’re always
Scoping out
Heat,
Not with
Our eyes
But the blur
Of our bodies,
The celestial
Stitched inside us.
Slant upward,
For there
Are ways
To sit &
Let joy find
This injury,
Even
As we
Let loss
Wash around
Our head
Like
A low
Sound.
We grasp
At the very best
Of each
Other
& begin.