There we are,
through the wormhole
like a snake coiled on a pole—
come down, see us move slow against the changing seasons;
watch me smile while we walk down sidewalks in the snow
we walk down sun-flecked trails
we walked to each other at night;
hand caressing the desert road air,
the same hand grabs mine when I leave it
in the red of your bedroom light.
Leaves falling now, look at me in the process of healing;
promise to start running when the rain stops.
– Long Beach, CA