I don’t know your sadness-in-this-moment.
How does the world love you? How
you cry out, stay silent.
I reach, and I have my reasons
for writing. In the desert,
wilderness, wherever people find themselves alone,
crows from yesterdays flock gather
under your ribs. I have stillness, expanse,
in my hips. You don’t know you possess
all the world. Still–
I want to give you more of it.