i love rotten bastards
who steal peoples parking spots
and thin trees that crack
upon the slightest wind
i love the forest
with your name upon it
and the oceans
your hands make
when they fall over me
i love the naked breath it takes
to get anything heard around here
i love the hurting and the formless song
we take on when we aren't talking
i love the hernia and the band-aid
and the wisp and smoke
i love the daunted
and the unkempt
and the unbound
disaster
i love the fever pitch
and the west wind
and the wizards lips
as he recites rhyming
poems
i love the horse fly
and the stains
and the wild trophies
you have left behind
when we falter
