what is it you plan to do

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Photo by Etienne Girardet on Unsplash

What if it is wild, but not precious?

A landfill of used needles
void of the liquids that saved us and then didn't

Wiping the butt of your loved one over and over,
more times a day than anyone says I love you

The floaters in your eyes
hissing like snakes

What if it is precious, but not wild?

Sun on skin as you lay atop a nylon sleeping bag
the summer that you, a baby counselor, learn that some children
do, in fact, run into the woods at night,
contrary to what you were promised—
but at that moment it is not night, 
and you have finally showered and closed your eyes
and the kids are playing close by
their words indistinguishable, but light

What if there is not one, but many?

All the do-overs

The first days of sobriety

The $20 bills rolled like a Taki in pockets

The pages ripped from a diary

The first days of the rest of our lives, plural

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