for Dillon  

 

Try not to overthink fractions, the unexpected, or the ratio of clouds to sky. Suppose you suddenly stop believing in gravity. There is beauty in not knowing. I am often unsure and full of feelings. Inside my head are echoes of cut up string and stones. My hands are full of sky. Imagine wearing a different hat for each emotion you feel throughout the day. Imagine the ridiculousness! Hearts full of feathers. A handful of light. Clouds moving backwards. Speaking through twigs and shrubs. Outmaneuvering a ladder propped up against the edge of the sky. A conversation with a pond. A paper boat beneath my tongue. Here is all my uncertainty neatly inside a paper boat. A feather remains aflame inside the body inside the tree.