leave already

stay around

just a little bit

where not enough and forever make love

like teenagers who don’t last

who will remember for the rest of their lives

that time in the closet with you

in their mouth like a meal that will never be satisfied

but that bleeds to parts not yet recognized

until there is wetness everywhere

particularly to the boats that are confused

by the blue of the sky and the water

turning themselves upside down

in hopes of finding themselves

near your watery bottom

stay around

like a buoy in an ocean

that can’t recall how to swim

sending waves to the shore

for help

stay around

as legacy does

not defined by me

but by others like you

who i want to include myself alongside

if only to ensure i don’t stay rounded

for that dulls the bumps into submission

where i forget that it is the jumps of unevenness

where we are hanging onto the comfort of air

that can softened lungs into

screaming enthusiasm

before we hang unknown

a circle unfurled

never quite straight

a bent line

that stands above a floor

like an exclamation

yelling always

stay around

if only to play golf

with the handles instead of the metal

when the day is leaking heat like a wound

and you want to feel the cold on you

the winter that lasts in all

stay around

because you are tired

with arms as the first warm bed you know

and the last too

with your own spread on you cold

stay around

like a fly that has found a way in an impossibly small hole

in your screen door that you promised you would fix

but didn’t because there was going to be a death in 84 years

after about 20 years of real living

that catch up to the fly too

who can’t climb outside despite the door

opening to a wind

that hasn’t always been as inviting as air conditioning

or the smell of death that follows your hope of paradise

if only you could fix the hole

that makes you wonder if outside is coming in

or inside out

stay around

like pines in snow

swinging songs on limbs

while we climb to get closer to the clouds

that pour themselves dry

stay around

to drown staid

and the sober and those that never

know that all humans have the ability for flight

until they are winging it with streets laughing loneliness

and birdshit where women stand atop on balconies

watching the day dab black

onto their green dresses

that could plant the world

with more than the world can plant

if only you could let them know

what you see from down below