Maybe if I run, I’ll escape this place.
Get far away where the ghosts won’t find me.
Brown and black fuzz funneling across pavement. The hedge promises new life, quick before
Bird standing sentry, he of bright red stripe and black feather, swoops in for a taste.
But all the distance hasn’t changed the past.
Every reminder pulls me right back in.
Pause, breathing flowers floating aside lake.
Pause, until fish surfaces, flicks flea down, and retreats into murk.
What boundaries can hold if we are all stardust?
Is it all of me ever-present, even the unseen?
I find shade, and my steps slow.
Path littered with plump flesh and berry seed.
Every piece of me may be torn apart, some lost in wet hollows.
And She will spend millennia calling each back.
Pause, tasting blood-purple globes.
Pause, with stained hands and belly full.
Every time we think we’ve found the line of Self and Other.
See the particles scatter and buzz.
Not to dredge to bone, not to segment, defend.
No, all we can do is to widen and open. Contract and hold fast.
Holy embrace where sun meets water.