exercise I

Saddle the horse and keep on riding
You can wear your beloved brown pants until they cease to exist
And floating in water should always feel like floating in water
(It doesn't )
There are thousands of different things to feel when in water

Holding on to a bag of mischief and minor regrets
Carefully executing the most quiet acts of revenge
Unsatisfied with the series of accidents that took you here
You left your language and your people unforgiven
The many deaths on every island before home
The ones that are called casualties in the great scheme of things
But not on me who attended every funeral

The sun had sunk to the height of traffic lights
When we left the bookstore we were both shining
I was trying to hold on to that moment and it felt like
Missing a fly in a slap that you prepared for
The frustration of trying to touch what you seemingly can't
Unsettled with the fleeting nature of it all
Unsure if I wanted to keep or kill it

Every time you are in water it is different water
Easy to miss it when you are too tied to tragic secularity
And every new water gets muddy
I hold on to my ceremonies and addictions
Each and every time, an attempt to see another way