they rest on the surface of me
granting my entry into the most sacred of places
a surprising density with neither mass nor saturation
i wake every day to watch them settle in
more and more and more please more
one a tight fold into contemplation
two a delicate containment bursting about the skin
three an assertive grip at its most vulnerable expression
i am strengthened by the safety you have given me
you are my anchor in the tonle sap and throughout the dry season
my botanical acolyte
my parents
Mix CD’s (not a poem)
March 14, 2021
i used to make my dad mix cd’s. he loved finding what came to be some of his favorite artists this way. (another connection we
