drifting snow banks, if anything, where your hand disappears for a second, the shadow reconstitutes the remaining reeds. if anything, give me this ache of dispersal. the splitting of roads. the lure shaped scar & the sizable tree, from above, now just one long root. i can't say i don't keep suggesting names. for some reason i have some stake in the middle name yarrow (achillea millefolium), though i know it's unlikely, two syllables & dropping its' expansiveness of the taste of the sound at the end, almost unexpectedly. according to legend, yarrow was named after achilles, (the greek mythical figure) who used it to stop the bleeding wounds of his soldiers. i still believe that it's a good idea to have a middle name that means wound-healing.

she suddenly stops some of the aching, as in, by the shape of her eyes & everytime she asks me to account for silence, but logistically, i don't know if we can get it together. in some dreams i am a sheep herder. in others i know the medicinal properties of herbs & make tinctures to heal a sick child who lives in a house built into the side of a hill. in dreams, rarely do i run from someone. sometimes i follow or am followed. last night, i led her through the dunes; she was humming, which i'm not sure if she does, but i imagine that she does- to pass some time by with the sound curling up the cave of her throat & hovering there, floating out to pollinate the air with some sweetness. but the time was slow. i watched her hair lift in the wind to reveal her strong back- this must have been over 500 frames. just the wind & the humming continuing. when we reached the water, there were thousands of straw flowers (helichrysum bracteatum) moving with the low tide. the greeks used straw flower mixed with honey to soothe burns.