i hold you against my hip
carry you on the subway
to markets
and places no one knows about
hidden pocket sewn inside my spring trench coat

the limestone quarry
where we howled to a full moon
and sang inside an oil drum
blind to everything but the light bouncing off slick metal as our voices circled back to us

dry brushes lining moonlit paths to
hidden spots with old tombstones
tangled in overgrown violets
and trampled on by strangers who didn't belong
to the land and didn't have our permission

and by donkeys with human names
who did

i set you afloat, on the river at dusk, with two fingers

watch you circle in an eddy, oblivious
mingling, kissing fallen leaves
only to catch and be whisked downstream

then i race down the bank in bare feet
and pluck you out before you
reach the current
and the rocks where we cried out in terror
as children taking heavy risks
and had to be hauled back to safety on the shore

you are a puzzle piece
i've not found a space for

i trust your burden
i continue to implore why

Amy Cray