May the poems be the little snail’s trail.

Everywhere I go,

every inch: quiet record

of the foot’s silver prayer.

I lived once.

Thank you

It was here

Aracelis Girmay

Walking home,

for a moment

you almost believe you could start again.

And an intense love rushes to your heart, 

and hope. 

It's unendurable, 

unendurable

Franz Wright