I can tell by the slope of your shell

our dance would last

beyond moon and crickets.

Turtles move for carrots,

frogs tuck their eyes in the their mouths,

gas prices will never be what they were-

but neither will I.

.

We tried crow yoga

but the bastard birds just waited

until we were in crow pose

then they pecked us in the ass

and stole our keys.

.

I tried to carry tasks like a came

but I got lumpy in all the wrong places.

Now I look to unburden myself

of pride and approval and control

and see if I can still cross the desert.

.

We are legends on our own sofas.

We can tuck our chins into other chins.

We move for rum and pie and watch

as clouds race by.

The spell was real,

though it was made of whispers and moss.

They never knew

if it was fate or some other construct

that drew them

together like tracks of a centipede

but they fell

in line with all things love and raucous

until they were exhausted

and too wise to remember being alone.

I was floating

in the hall between stone arches

with the desert nearby.

I couldn’t tell anyone

how full of verdant growth I was

because moss was muzzling me

and I couldn’t find my way

because the canopy shielded me

from harsh direction of the sun.

People were fighting and loving

in the doorway but I floated, timelessly;

my own sea was grace

in an ocean of torment.