we pixelate

we pixelate
at 1%
or 99
depending on how you look at it
in order to capture the fraction of uncertainty

you
in virginia
and in landlove
me
thinking rolling hills
and cabins
you
skipping around the final bend
of 31
me
cheering you on
from the sidelines

yellow dustdirt under running shoes
i didn’t think i could do this today
but knew i had to

water therapy
is what that naturopath called it
hot
then cold
then hot
then cold
then hot
then cold
every snowmelt river i can ever imagine
pouring over the curve of my shoulders

shiz and i
open our mouths to metal anchors
fashion mustaches out of sharpie, not the ink but the pen itself
compare short skirts
whatever happened to that chef hat, anyway
the one with big daddy in the green font
the sweetsickness of videolaughing
about kid sister characters
and the famous sliding of things under one inch door gaps
knowing
our delayed voices
are not traveling along lines laid in ground
800some miles
but up into the rotating satellites
and then back down to earth again

diego
hasn’t been let inside
for at least 4 days
if not a whole week
and his howling
excavates canyons
in my bone
muscle
gut
and of course
i could not help but glare over my shoulder on the sidewalk
when i overheard the neighbor
the other day say
while getting into her car
i don’t care if he’s going to cry (which he will. and has. every night. pawing at the fence. the door.)
i’m not letting him inside
san diego
i will not miss
your small dogs
nor the humans
that refuse to walk them much less
let them inside
much less quiet them
when their howls
sharp as an apple corer
scrape the very night out of the sky

for the lioness:
may your oceanpink cheeks
give way
to gold