[Say creation story in fits and starts.]
Say creation story in fits and starts. Say darkness mountain deep. Can I barter sunsets, refracted light, my hands as slivered moon? A low red pulse I pretend is a passing planet. Flip my heart over. Hand wash only. Dry on low heat. May mistake clotheslines for veins. May be naïve. May be lovesick. A stethoscope dangles nearby. Threatens my heart with its own music. Hurries it along before starlings and wasps. What is spring? When do I exhale these damp blooms? Glacial melt pools, refreezes at my feet. The baby river needs a nudge and advice. First, don’t make promises. Second, promise I will be taken all at once. Before phones, there are phone booths. Rain of quarters, this country’s manna. Mom, Dad: the last time I call will also be the first.