a forest

o you brought me the piece of paper that’s so kind of you the piece of paper was just what i needed you think of everything don’t you little sweet thing everything don’t you

when clouds billow past you when i feel your silent rage open up and my hairs stand on end every little hair tall like a pine tree like a pine tree with no needles like dead pine

you think of everything and i am so glad because that means i don’t have to think of anything anything at all i can just flow free and easy and i’m like the sunset and i’m like the sunrise

i am a forest i am a forest when you are angry with me all sharp edges and all needles underfoot and all smell of air right before a fire

that thick lank smell of pulp from the factory stretches down to where we sit and you know about the pulp they use they grind up the trees and i don’t remember how many are left but it’s ever dwindling they just can’t grow back fast enough

and where do the birds go you want to know and where do they go when their nests are unbranched i told you they roost in clockwork they roost on powerlines and in gutters and they clog us all up they stop progress and we can’t be impatient with them they’re just birds they don’t understand

i miss my birds i told you i miss their nest in my stomach i miss how when they alight i can feel all the feathers around me like when you kiss me like when you hold my wrist in your hand

you remembered the piece of paper thank you for the piece thank you for it i would have forgotten even though i am a forest even though i am what paper is before it is paper even though i still want my birds back i still want my birds

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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.