home

if I pressed here, and you there
could we see-saw our way up and out
of this trap?
could we press our flesh
to bend the bars
to lift our chins above the hay?
Is there meaning in this effort
or are we already lost?
we have water
we have food, why bother
with comfort or modesty.
You are flesh and your scent is
a jungle of salt and leaves
woven  around me.
I breath for you, and you for
all of us.
relcline with me for a while,
animal,
let's see-saw and sink in the weeds
of those immortal rhythms so
hard to hear.