That’s what it’s like to wake up and see your face each morning.

Low points marked by little orange signs Saying Flooded before and after they are.

So that nowhere home is

Still ever on the way.

And so, everything is in its rightful place. Aside from the fact that it is worrying for things to be this good. 

when Kevin
came home—
I called him

setting me down among the rust of late summer
flowers like a doll into a tin

against the constellation
of lilies

At a poetry reading in a factory
A discussion begins

Why open that door?