Old footage buried in the cards
it looks a lot like it was shot
on something ancient.
I see her by the edge of the dam
looking out at all the water
we are holding back with nothing
but a wall. I’ve seen tornadoes skate
on that horizon line like it’s supposed
to be forever frozen, and through
that I have learned that nothing
can be predicted because accounting
for the impossible is just our greatest
guesses pictured on display,
and no one’s watching anyway.
The sky is a big target and so that’s
one thing she has going for her.
She looks through the square she makes
with her fingers like a window
or the the eyepiece of a camera,
and she stumbles from the vertigo
you get from seeing something
tall while at its base.
That’s how it feels to share this place
with her and all the perfect pictures
that she makes. Regardless if she’s in
them or behind whatever scrapes them
out of light. I don’t know where
I’ll be tonight, but I’m hoping
she will ask for me to stay,
but if she doesn’t
I will walk as far away as I can get
before the distance made between us
becomes a circle that returns me
to her side.

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