I just want
small tendernesses:
sunlit slatting onto bed covers,
dust motes catching sunlight
in immobile air

The tiny violences of
killing flies and ants,
welcome everywhere but
windowsill and indoor walls,

Unwritten routines:
walking across the street,
to the park,
with a cup of coffee,
in the haze of sunlight
waking up to spring.

I want
the moments when
the living is easy

It hasn’t been
this easy
for so long.

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