Poem, 3/15

I’ve unraveled.

the point from now becomes

a process of raveling, reconnecting myself

with my self’s responsibilities.

it’s a rock in Pinnacles, a point past which

I can no longer go

this time. my boy, my man,

you are everything in the world to me

and what a world we have

yet to make. ps, today I heard

the flapping of a bird’s wings.