when i grow up i want to be small again

small like a rainforest

small like the letters on the back of your hand

                   : blues on skin, a spell against forgetting

i want to be small like time is small

when you notice other things

like how spittle moves along with her lips when she speaks her truth

like how she carves a kitchen into being and dwells there

(i have been many things recently

a mountain gorge, the slit in the eye of a sheep, a tendency

to over-explain, the colour yellow

but never not small and i miss it)

                   when we are small we should be simple

                   a circle that doesn’t go anywhere : a sermon with no

                   promise of heaven, bother-weeds

                   when we are simple we can say

                   there, there little thistle

                   give me your song · open your eyes

                   allow the wind to rustle your skin as it has done mine