stretch out into the ether

so that we may bump into

each other

waltzing to the soundtrack

of Miranda July

and haiku hiccups

outside of Howarth Park.

the particles of our personas

baffling stethoscopes

and CEOs

I will love you the best I can

groping you as I used to grip

onto my stuffed sense of innocence

that she never gave a name

that never needed a name

I don’t have to know yours either

just step out into the ether

and your mortality confirmed.