there is no where to burrow when you live above ground

there is no where to burrow when you live above dirt

watching someone burn

on television

versus

sending naked pictures of yourself to yourself from an alias

to pretend you're in love

versus

making tiny cups of coffee in your mind with an unused espresso maker

that sits in the corner

growing dust and whiskers

versus

smushing your lips up against the mirrors

in a bathing suit

after swimming

and your hair is all coarse from the bleach-water

versus

the light hitting all the angles of the most mundane objects

producing geometric shapes in shadows

versus

an ol' bust-up

bust

made of clay

with her lips sewn shut

with two sides of her sewn shut

in the best attempt to undo

backwards progress

disintegrated ideals

body & body

versus

tears that drip down the back of your throat

as numbing as cocaine

down through aching lungs

versus

joyful sunshine fingers
in the wind
out of a car window

versus

those fingers covering your eyes
making crosses
hiding from the light that is totally encapsulating your back

versus

lines of arms stomach squish
my breasts squish
thighs squish
and tighter
in warm embraces
solitary spaces

versus

only your hands
only these hands staring you in the face
only these lines
only these wrinkles

versus

and when you unwrap yourself
maybe this morning
will be met
with more than fleeting
shining strings of upturned chin and upturned eyes
and downturned squishy toes in the dirt
like dandelion
a quite resilient weed

it is okay.
these seeds germinate in the wind