-as one-

we land on our sides


azaleas

zig zagging
and
predictable

emptied

from life's little bluffings

scattered
neon
letters

the moon nods
in and out


happiness

does not overcome us


honey
bee

sitting next to a lit lamp
changing numbers
your eyebrows
look like
sequentially
astrophes
[does that make sense?]

apparently

it is the moon's sky
and we are housed
in this poem

a swum-out
script

you and I

the actual where

I don't know

after all

it is night

and

every move

only

shadows

the ceiling

shattering
but

still

I do the dishes
the moon
drifts from a window
to
where the cat sits

and

perhaps

weekend
puh O lease
sirens
as we box more
boxes

marked

with the pale print of our hands