1:44
childhood

Migration

COHORT 1

we roll out of

sleeping bags like monarchs

from cocoons:


so bright we burned a hole

into summer & plugged it

with laughter.   how beautiful


it is to unfurl a whole season

with our tongues—

confessions crushed   into sunsets;


we forget whose words

are whose

as the minutes melt like wax.


∿


our bodies honeyed

in heat, breath buzzing

like cicadas:


you & i are nothing

but a July 

well spent:


weightless & one 

inhale away

from flying—


i want to break

towards sunshine,


i want

to let go of your hand

this time.


i was never afraid

to push off

with my own two feet.


∿


in this summer, 

i am nothing i wanted 

to be


but still yours.

& i guess

i can’t complain


when your word

is final.


i know, you’re right:

maybe it’s too much   too soon

to ask for a name.


to be more than

firelight smudged into ash,

a match lit by a second hand

one flutter away

from hands

dropping individual to our sides


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