a future

Palestine
I write from Israel.
turmoil mutters that something is missing from me.
futures
are unfurled
too slowly.

You and I
We float in an ocean of peach trees
the ocean breathes and our hearts bob, we are gulls on the waves
you touch me like salt and rain and
peach fuzz
our hearts have lifted into flight above us

we taste like
climbing trees at midnight
no lights
sap
barefoot skin finding peeling bark, hiking up the trunk sideways
hands grappling
hair in mouth
tangled
towards more oxygen.

we were two at the bottom
sitting underneath the world,
a world on top
distant,
hearing
there is a place colored with the sun's eye drops:
light. and cobalt blue
Rising
we swim upward the orchard
toward peaches and deep breathing and vision

hold me up to the light and tell me we are real. solid?
build me, shift, push me you've caught me enough times to last forever
I'd be safe thinking of how

i think God drew you with a crayon
outlined all your edges
carefully, filled you in with sand and seashells
I think he put you with me and fed you milk and honey
because he couldn't stand to see us cry.

sometimes I still taste the salt.
But in these treetops...
He gave you a garden and we climb it because
the future is waiting for us, we lift seashells to our ears and she calls
her breath is on our foreheads my eyes squinting before her light,
heart pounding--my skin just unlatched and my soul is open to the white storm of light beckoning hello love
we will be beautiful
we'll meet our future on the bottom or the top but
We'd rather feel like birds

we want to look her in the eyes.