we were
two breaths / in clasps & grass / a stranger
in my skin / so long ago / i could peel stars off the ceiling
of your mouth / pasted them on my body / a galaxy
of us / for years after we orbited sleepy
bottle feedings / carpool schedules / picking sand out
of our toes / broken
refrigerators, dishwashers, ovens / all at once, once / we put a cooler
on our back porch and washed laundry in the bathtub / crying
in the morning before the sun even set / windows shattered / our
garden turned to wasted dirt / missing
parents and doctors appointment / worrying
addictions to sexy tiktok posts / how to treat
poison oak / i still don’t know how to
apply to college / it’s a totally different
thing now / two decades pass when swallows
make a nest in our carport / i am
scared they will scatter and we’ll be left
with a mess / so you hang a hammock
between our marrow / we lay
hip-to-hip / we look up
to watch the birds hatch babies / their chest
feathers falling into the fake grass / they plant
like star-white flowers in a moon
garden / we inhale above them
seamless again