caught making sense
line breaks open
windows, world bubbles
between rose city and me
all toasted candy
earlier, I wrote some
bullshit I mean fiction
about this time
last year— yearning
when I took her to the bar
patience
with dust
she stirs with songs
wakes up with the sun
turning on like an oven
there are sprouts
better than my garden
along the garage walls
patience with
yesterday
turned on by
squishing letters
together
touching on
attention
attention
as the only
viable transition
viable transition
