I shout symphonies.   

            I heard about the strings & want to strain my throat like that.

                        Watch you blink like flash bulbs.       

I shout Iowa,

            watch snow slow on the back of taillights.

                        Climb the fence, snag the hems

                                                of our blue jeans. Or were they black?

This is recollection —dog fur in the carpet,

                                                sharp knives asleep in the block on the counter.

                                    You, ruled by the moon.

You the radio, what’s beyond the signals.

                                                            Press one for red, press pound to say yes.

                                                                                    Leave

                                                            a message?        

            I’m bombarded by your blouse,

                                    mouth left open like a back door.

                                                                                                Cattails on the interstate.

                                                                        I have fingertips & you have a tornado shelter in your chest.

            We envy what we do not have.

we will miss you.

markaguhar:

These are the axes:

1

Bodies are inherently valid

2

Remember death 

3

Be ugly

4

Know beauty

5

It is complicated

6

Empathy

7

Choice

8

Reconstruct, reify

9

Respect, negotiate