listless (an upright life)

listless (an upright life)

you wrote me

to say

you are “listless”

so i did the only

thing i could—

i made you this list. . .

•

1.

is it order

that you need—

to arrange this or that

every item sacred

as i shape these words

into poetry

to fill this space—

less than everything

            but more than nothing?

2.

you pull me

as the moon the waves

as the tide a ship

to one side—you

my magnetic north

i can tell you this—

there is no joy

in an upright life

3.

i am no carpenter

no tailor or farmer

but if it is framing you need

to adjust this picture of your life

i am bound to offer furrows

left by my fingers

ground carved and treasured

where your feet brush grass

            whispering kindness

4.

the universe is humming

the fabric softly rubbing together

wisping and shushing—calling

to anyone who will listen

to anyone who can hear

the soft and silent momentum lifting

where we dance eyes closed

            handinhand

5.

what have your bones chosen?

what wish winds your blood

through your veins day and night?

can numbered things

ignite these embers of craving

that i offer to you with my mouth

rapt like paper smoldering?

•

because my list is always you

every item numbered one