Parading

They say you are made of clouds, they say you

words have no main switch. But all those little

in the human heart, meanings like sailboats / setting out

my mind, in its ascent,

The thing that lasts is noticing

Hi! The creator too is blind,

singing to me from across the forbidden

There’s break, as in lucky, as in

let alone cosmos, joy, memory, everything,

and hands uncurl because I don’t know