My Camera Roll Shows Trees That Aren’t Standing Anymore

I’ve known of just barely enough
loss to see an absence and hear its speech

                           there the storm is
                          uncalming

                                    darling I’d tell you where
                                    to go but

                          something in you has long
                          been aware of this sky

                                    and his vehement
                                    weight



                what looking back
                tells me is I don’t

                          want
                          to trust traces like I used to

                so I don’t
                take

                          pictures of just anything
                          anymore just

                odd confluences
                senseless angle reflection color

clouds bent horizons
hallways perspective

                          collapsing
                          to a single point



                                     a whole season I
                                    couldn’t stop taking

                                              nudes for no one
                                              examining

                                    where
                                    I folded

                                              watching shadows
                                              shift in my stomach

                                    under my thumb
                                    the exposure

                                              contrast
                                              vibrance

                                                        it felt
                                                        I could keep

                                              uncurving
                                              and

                                    there’d be no end
                                    of light



to this day when
the weather gets rough I

                send a screenshot to my parents
                lament

                           how the hell
                          could it be this cold what

                                    the hell is a “gale warning”
                                    anyway

                though my dad reaches
                out more often

with a forecast before
I even know

                myself
                still

                I feel guilty not following
                up every storm

                          that hits the south
                          with an

                                      are y’all
                                    safe

                          text except
                          to let the thought

                out
                would be

                          inviting any
                          response or

                silence giving
                permission like

                           whatever the opposite
                          of knocking

                                    on wood
                                    would be



                          I tend to forget bad thoughts I needed
                          to ward off

                by the time I tap
                two knuckles exactly

                          against a tree exactly twice
                          like assuring their skin

                                      I’m still here
                                    baby I’ll still wait

                so we two may keep lying
                for a while here

                          like mice under
                          a raptor’s eye

                watching
                for the patient wind one day

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