Two parts good, one part
maybe tired,
maybe sad
(I haven’t decided yet),
looking at my
lake
(mine tonight,
I put it on reserve because
I felt I deserved it).

Quietness
other than
big waves and
teenagers on their
first date
(blackberry stain hickies
to bring home to momma).

My eyes are closed
because I’m having a
moment
and I don’t want to
see any other
moments
because then I’ll
start to compare.

I hope no one steals my
apartment keys
as I take off my sweatshop
tennis shoes and
take

four

breaths in:

one for the
limitless lonely space
on this bench and
in this world

one for the
sailboats like
sheep
along the crease where the
lake is kissing the sky

one for the
prayers I’ve been
skipping out on
(except when I’m on
airplanes or in
fast cars)

and one for
myself.