I twisted into me
into knots and threads of darkened memory
like tree trunk rings or strips of film
of jagged time.

There are shards of light there
in those tied up corners
and those softened edges
of flesh and bone.

Hold me up to the sun
and study the maps
that run through my veins
they’re all places I have been.

The signs along the highway
have turned a jaded green
but I remain a brilliant
shade of transparent gold.

I can guide you at night
I can teach you
spread out on the hood of your car
one finger on some tiny destination.

I am a breathing mess of
sun down and sun up
of abandoned buildings
and new beginnings.

Find me when you’re starting over
I have been everywhere
I have grown rings
twisted into the depths of me.