On All Fours

Fingers cling to the gravel, feet balanced hip-length apart: push.

Body parallel to the street—in midair

—you fly past hydrants, buildings, burgeoning flowers emitting lemon sweet.

Remember, you never left the Earth. In the air, you were a bird on all fours.

You’ll forget. This moment will melt into the summer,

taking the vision of together that means more than

not being on all fours.

 

 

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