my ring finger looks fragile
but I look at it repeatedly until it becomes
strong enough to be my backbone
staring at my phone
I knew that there was always something
to be frightened of;
people who crush our hands pretending to reach out
the dark shadows beneath one's bright eyes
joy leaping out of sadness
spread the word
the moon has turned its deep craters to ears that listen
the night sky takes its turn to shine
waiting for the thrilling conclusion
for
compost
to grow stories or maybe a faint structure
for you and me
*
