Haiku (almost an ode).

By way of explanation, he says

I’m like early earth.
Soon I’ll realize I’m not flat;
That Sun’s the center.

*
Sour grass & coral
Honeysuckle rub stories
From his mouth like wool.
*
Sweetchild-man of flesh
& stone: your sister’s stomach
Blooms beside your fears.
*
No one’s touched his cheek
In so many years his beard
Grows to meet my palm.
*
Printed photographs
Grafted to the wall like skin.
Crackerjack daylight.
*
His bowling father—
His bowling, whistling father—
His middle name, creased.
*
His she is far
away— the mirror’s foul play.
An eyelash goes grey.
*
Don’t tell me how hard
You love,
he whispers.
It’s too small in here.
*
I sing: you were free
You were already free you
Were already free.
*
*
*
*
*

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