that one time we walked all i could think about was the dew on the lawn on the great green lawn at the place where i had never been before never talked before never walked before i wonder still what it would have been like for us to take off our shoes and maybe our clothes and then we would be inside this one world the one where we condense under twilight we would be a mess we would have to explain ourselves to strangers who didn’t matter or even care we would have to go home your home not my home on the bus the one accordion-middled bus and there would be hours of silence maybe awkward maybe just the silence of naps in sunshine bare feet on wood floors a dream of you never come to fruition a speck of hope amidst three years of untenderness a needle of reason against my eye

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I acknowledge that I live and work on stolen Cowlitz, Clackamas, Atfalati, and Kalapuya land.
I give respect and reverence to those who came before me.