I grew up under the New Mexico sky.

A sky that drips with swinging children

 Jumping

 to catch 

the clouds. 

Each quarter moon is seen and relished in.

Chewed 

down to the 

bare bone. 

The sky is the air I crave in my lungs,

It is the waves in my hair, 

It is the color of my color-changing eyes.

The atmosphere is each of my dangling limbs,

Growing by the second.

This moon-touched child soon moves to a city.

Where the sky is further away.

My grandfather was a sailor. 

As he would tell me about his tales of the sea,

He would mention the sun.

Telling me how it guides you home. 

That's when I knew I could trust the light

because he did. 

Dusk to dawn and he was soon taken

But his smile lives on in every 

sun that 

sets on 

my island. 

When I miss him I know where to find him. 

He’s in every sky I see.

The birds sing his laugh 

and feel my head on his 

beating chest when the air cools.

My soulmate in the sky.

I have trouble defining my belief system. 

Control is my disease which makes faith hard.

I itch with cravings for inventing the future.

I want to believe in God because it would allow me to let go. 

I want to give myself to something else, 

but I have a hard time believing what I can’t see. 

However,  even I can’t deny the forces of the sky 

as it slows and is swallowed. 

I can give the reigns to someone else 

when I feel small compared to Orphic Sky. 

When half-light has arrived 

And kissed my forehead, 

That's when I believe. 

My mom captures the sky with her camera in a way

I’ll never be able to. 

She is her father’s daughter, and the sun means 

her just like it means my Peabah. 

I look to the sky to feel grounded.

Elysian.

This morning the sky smelled like you.

A watercolor of the most heavily blue.

A soulmate in the sky.