By James Diaz
we thought of all the gardens
we had never put into the ground
we thought of the daily breaking down
into smaller parts till the whole thing
could fit into our mouths
we thought of the last time we had been happy
and we cried because it had been so long
we knew this road was never really meant to be abandoned
only walked upon harder
in every direction
we could not remember what it meant to be loved
and held and understood
we were walkers in an entirely inexhaustible way
configured for this dark
our light was immanent
without / sun
from the ocean’s bottom
we created a way to see despite our achy-born blindness
we thought of the garden we built from smaller things
than we could measure
we remembered that happiness couldn’t be held
or pulled from pockets
or like a root from winter ground
our feet were starry hearts worn down
and our love was never gone
it was just too close for us to see.