when she says she wants to talk less during the day
what is the correct response?
yeah, I understand.
do you hate me?
i don’t want to bother you.
i love you.

TRUER: i need you there. need to feel the electric warmth of interaction with you. need to share your spaces and hear about your day and see your face on my screen.

TRUEST: i am terrified you will fall out of my orbit if you don’t stay visible in the sky.

all of them are scratching, pine needles against the window of my mind. i was foolish to think i could just chop down the tree. plants leave ghosts.
their roots tie them to the earth.

when a house burns down, what happens to the basement?
could you still live there, in the soil, if the foundation was strong?



it is the Grey morning of the last day

and I am watching a curl of smoke unravel itself over someone else’s garage.

The room is chilled and the pillows smell like piss. My feet hurt,

a tight ache at the toes like they need to be cracked open to let it out

we will not sleep here again. I don’t know if they know that. I roll over

and pull dog hair off of my sleeves and tongue, it has settled like snow

but there is no dog. there was, once, but he and others have left.

the house groans because it misses him or because it is waking up

the wind tickles the windows, cold air knocks at the sliding door

the world is calling us to eviction, to retreat



How could a storm assemble a port?
Could titanic winds, hollowing over crags of ocean
ever build a home, an open embrace for frightened souls
a lighthouse that illuminated the rocky pitfalls

warm cookies and cool lemonade
home is a place defined by its people



Will Muckian

I write about the NBA. Sometimes I write about important things too.