Our heart is a stack of bricks, we hand back and forth,
a pulsing, unintentional rhythm, paced to build
a cozy home, or a retaining wall.
*
Face to face, we sit, clutching
generic porcelain mugs,
marking our bodies like price tags.
*
We share a triangle pastry
blotched in red corn syrup
which we agree is fruit.
To love God is to love each other, you say,
ripping a piece to save.
I bite in a corner to taste,
Loving each other means loving God?
*
We leave, satisfied by starch,
thoughtless about the crumb trail we leave behind.
*
Fasten seatbelts, prepare
for separate houses.
Busy crossroads tiring rubber, friction. Yellow,
again.
*
Is it time or intention that makes green? Design?
*
Staring at the stop sign, shift
in your passenger seat, feel
yourself stick, suspended
by his sedan.
Night after night
*
Orion’s belt
suspends
stiff yellow bodies
*
holding the heat of space.
Unsettled 