I just want
small tendernesses:
sunlit slatting onto bed covers,
dust motes catching sunlight
in immobile air
The tiny violences of
killing flies and ants,
welcome everywhere but
windowsill and indoor walls,
Unwritten routines:
walking across the street,
to the park,
with a cup of coffee,
in the haze of sunlight
waking up to spring.
I want
the moments when
the living is easy
It hasn’t been
this easy
for so long.