Trampoline Net
a poem for a love lost, a love I will never lose, and... a trampoline.
In thrifted pants unwashed arms a flurry of fiber and sinew I'm better now a promise a truth a self lie There is a bird that follows me and sings like the creak of a rusted swing chain she is evil and beautiful My love is less limited now I think I misunderstood what limitless was what this feeling is now here Unwashed thoughts burden me sometimes but I know whatever happens today and tomorrow and the next week the bird outside my window will sing and it will be horrible and I will feel divinity then in the palm of my hand like yours was I have never been this loved and its scary to sit on this woven plastic in the calm of night and hear the cicadas scream to feel complete at my messiest to feel my best after a big cry to place my hand on the curve of your hips What a sickly joy to list my woes and be met with someone so recklessly hellbent on fixing every last one so I never know pain for a second I think I understand now I think everything happened as it was meant to and your love is the best thing I've known



this is so beautiful ðŸ˜ðŸ˜ðŸ˜ðŸ˜ðŸ˜ðŸ˜ðŸ˜