Like buzz-free air, a paper plane in a sticky sky,
Like algae-coiled moats glazed by lemon-shade sunrays,
Like how a lifetime stretches, matted with freckle and pollen counts,
Like blue-flecked cityscape lit by the slinking of night,
Like breath wasping into clouds, blooming into dawn’s wake,
Like the taste of ice crackling against glass, against teeth,
Like tenderness, gracing through all its painful forms,
Like hoping, again, and again, and again–
