everything is a love letter

it doesn’t need to be
specific. there
needn’t be a

it could be an
it could be a
top and bottom or
side by side.

it’s of course ok to think of it as
a cabin,
a small home
all your own.

a woodstove, maybe.
slate floors.
a place in your yard
from which to pluck
a ripened tomato.

but none of this is
necessary. none
of it a deal-breaker. 

it might be
oil pulling in the evening,
twenty minutes of oil
swished in the mouth.
no talking,
on account of the oil.
music, maybe.

traffic in
through a window.
wind in
through a window.
moving water in
through a window.

it might be silent.

just the sound of
oil squishing and sloshing
through teeth,
inside your one
and only

there doesn’t need to be all that many
or requirements.

it can be
mostly unexpected.

it can be
mostly surprising,
and especially
when it has,
with time,
become so familiar.

there you are.
that’s all that is really
needed. here
you are.

a tiny plant opens to the sun, the background of the plant, all black.

Published by Zak

an intertidal island in an ocean of impermanence.

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