Staring in a Nebraskan meadow. Staring
a clicking, whispering ocean I know
I’m gonna become one day but actually
I’m staring at you, forgetting my arms
and your shoulders can sense and seconds
are eating. The original Bambi on my desk
and my bedroom smells like skin and apple.

Just staring through the boulder of my skull
at you behind me now makes my eyes water.
It gets crashing inside. I lost my smelling years
before the pandemic but maybe you can
smell the aster. I want you to smell the aster.
The rain could make me look naked today
but I’m submitting to the will of God.

Teenagers sitting in a basement trying
to be good. I joined them because my cousin
was going and I am interested in being good,
but I became so tired meeting them all.
So much people making my body weak.
Then I came here to a college dormitory,
summer yet reddened, a bee
ready to die on life’s palm if life dares.