let us go then, you and i
when the evening is spread out against the sky
with words and stars woven between and blanketing our
20/20 vision, even peripherally, all that’s left to see is nothing but
blankets over our eyes, blinded,
my grandmother knitted me covers for my eyes so that I can look
up at her at night, her soul interwoven into
each star, each glimmer, and yet
i am so small as well, just
one in a plethora of
ground and water and endless expanse.
let us go then, you and i,
gazing at blankets above our eyes,
of stars and grandmothers and past,
i am a past, a dream, a future,
a reason you are floating,
i am selfish and yet selfless,
yet nothing.
let us go then, you and i,
venturing our sights into the skies,
looking forward and backwards and the places we don’t know,
let us exist.