optimista

i’m ninety kilometers from serenity,
past the stomach drop of a fright coaster
my garden’s trashed, think any
low-down-dirty-all-gone-dead thought,
or pick one from my pocket.

but your breath left drops behind my left ear
and they watered,
watered
watered
tympanic membrane,
my epileptic center
and those mung hope sprouts
shot sparklers,
grounded me again.

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