when we stopped
in a snowglobe of potpourri

we, the world, paused
to breathe
it wasnt goldenrod or the asters,
no flowers in the desertlookin forest

i looked down

you sniffed the handful of dirt in my hand
it was the most beautiful scent i ever smelled.

paradise is a
sunny rock

selenite, heaped
i made a snow angel
with sand
and we all picked
wild and fragrant

hours later
im sobbing on a sunny bluff
for the first time in weeks
from chariot’s speaker
bjork reminds me to open up
my mouth as the sun sets on the water

mostly we cry for each other
everyone, i mean,
we cry in awe and i cried in terror
or maybe its just fear
(not terror)
to live now, in the place im in, i am an alien
to the land
im trying to untangle the histories i was never told

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