I don’t know how much difference
sunscreen makes when you spend
your days bathed in blue light
empty numbers rattling around
in your head like spare change
mistake the persistent scratching
for rats in the ceiling always scurrying
to do some rat king’s bidding
when in reality it’s the family dog
the one you’ve had since you were ten
the one who’s seen you through it all
clawing at the floorboards, begging
you to go outside and take a walk
Remember that story about
that guy who pushes a boulder up a hill
every day of his life, only for it
to roll back down just before
he reaches the top? No one
ever asks what’s at the top
that’s so important –
is it redemption, is it salvation
is it simply a chance
to rest?
I don’t know how to describe to you
the kind of freedom you can taste:
something cold and bitter
and sweet sliding down your throat
surrounded by strangers somewhere
with a view of the city, a shared
cigarette, 25-peso fried dumplings
and two-day-old rice from a cooker
at the back of a convenience store
how you drown it in sauce that seeps
through the cardboard bottom
how it’s so good because
you can pay for it yourself
I don’t know how to tell you
that none of this is a warning
which is to say
this isn’t the worst yet
this isn’t the best yet
I hear love works differently
these days; I hear the days are long
but the seasons always change
before you’re ready. I hope you’re
never ready. I hope life surprises you.
I hope you remember that at least
the boulder hasn’t crushed you.
I hope you crush the boulder. I hope
you break it into a thousand tiny pieces
that fit into your pocket and I hope
you sprint up that hill so fast you pitch
forward, fingertips expecting to grasp
air but instead closing in on skin
the feel of flesh and bone underneath
warm and waiting and someone else’s.
🪨⛰
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