I love meditations and vibrations of my skin in the cold grocery store aisle.
Life is good. Even crying I love.
Ear massage by my tears
swing down to the jawbone
to trace tracks of tears so slow.
I’m more confident now coming through the clouds
of fallen jokes
like I can show my face after all
live life in a canyon
like oh life is rich
though no hay for my bed
I can’t be bled
blood is for family and for spirit brethren.
I split bread with those closest
and make eye contact with those passing