resuscitate

computer screen smashed to preserve choppy syntaxes of stubs of grass tufts sticking into my feet and
fingers tingling as rocks become flesh pulsing too bright to be seen under glass oceans of stars

the joy of vision is that thoughts curve out under moving mirrors that never collide cascading through
granite and sand

 

alive now to the wet black sandal and sun against my feet drying off immersed in warmth
against cold bricks and stone

snow melt-off in the waves that still hold my breath as I let the movement become real rising into rock
and snow where clouds and mountains blend together into winter melting under my toes