the land was beautiful; open valley, touch mountain
and the ranges were open like the spaces in your heart
and I was heading west with you, in spirit, where the fault lines widen
climbing rocks inside your mind, each foothold before me without thought
and I was beautiful and you were beautiful -- driving down highways
mapped by flowers in bright red and yellow,
like the sun, but softer, and you crumbled with my memory inside you --
a reminder of every good thing spoiled. in my mind, you are whole
and incredible, a bright star burning itself dark in the universe,
like me, with galaxies blooming inside your arteries like watermelon seeds;
chewing gum in the pit of your stomach growing into a shapeless, pink tumor.
you are restless, and you chase after the spaces before you endlessly
and if I could hold you, I would, like a heart in a hand or something more ferocious,
like a heart in a mouth with teeth closing, closing against tissue.
you are afraid of everything and nothing, sal paradise with a real conscience
and even more longing to touch every beautiful thing.
numbers increase and pavement widens: you are whole and moving, always,
and my touch goes with you through the mountains and the valleys, into the rock,
into the sea, so you can keep the good parts of your life separate from the bad ones
and still feel everything at once.
in my mind, you are inescapable,
and the red land stretches out forever.