how much love do you have?
are you thinking like a compass
like a dream condensed into a cloud
a river mouth shouting an ocean
or a head laid back on the grass
being a home for a rain beetle crawling
you have a book on your chest
laid open above your heart
that will maybe burrow out your back
to become wings for a future poem
you have lips pressed against the window
love translated to grease
will you write it there?
you hold a finger up
dylan’s saying how the wind is blowing
you have as much love as you can give