a small poem for a friend on the eve of their leaving.

things i dream are at times fancy, far away.

they’re dark too 

some say overly so.

and they may be right

but i know that they is real things sent to me to help with clarity.

my pa-pa’s hands, calloused yet firm- hard and loving held me once and made me feel 

my aunt spoke a spell into existence that birthed liberation in me

and even my love came to me there. he sat him fleshy self down and smiled. kissed me wake so that i could breathe in this life a bit easier, for a bit longer. 

and i dreamt of you. held you and turned over our past to see what had been there:

some mis-doings on us both, magic, herbs, shrooms, lakes, bikes. all next to love laid out for me 

i know that words is nothing but weak trembles sometimes when they-selves stand with no action.

And we is mighty scared of what is said and not held. 

we’ve been not held

but know this- that dreams is will.

pulling us to one another

sitting us in experience and readying us for what will come.

i want you to take the big and the small of this trip.

the good and bad that’s gonna happen 

even the lonesome parts and add to the might you got for yo-self.

wrap it around you

and know that im smilin’ off in a room wishin you protection and joy.

we need you lovin’ us as long and as deep as possible.  

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