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the people’s almanac
december 23, 2025
sometimes i imagine you in small and particular ways,
as a head resting softly on
my chest, or a hand where
my waist dips into
my hips.
i like to imagien you moving around my body in this way,
as though we are dancing
together, perfect partners, as though
even in my stillness
i am framed by you. on an inhale,
you are the space between
my ribs, on an exhale, the space between
my parted lips. you live gently beneath my jaw
like a kiss.
most days, this is all i want,
for the space around me to be filled.
you know how often i pray for it,
to be never left alone.
sometimes i imagine you as a darkness,
not as the absence of light, but as a presence
in your own right. as
nighttime,
as quiet and persistent company, surrounding,
patient, inevitable,
everywhere.
when i imagine you in this way, it is not so hard to be
alone; i know that i am not, i know that you are waiting gently
for my limbs to soften, open,
so you can wrap yourself around them.
most nights, i sleep tucked inside of myself so tight
nothing can rush in or out of my dammed body.
i lay like this clenched and solid until the night
takes me but
sometimes i imagine you behind me
warming the space behind my back,
loosening my shoulders, softening my belly,
pulling my knees from my chest
when i imagine you like this,
even when i cannot see i am
brave enough to soften,
to stretch,
to lay,
prostrated
face down
into your darkness
oh
god,
i trust no one if not you
to keep me safe.
before you
i desire many things
i cannot reach
i cannot name
i cannot help
but orbit around
what difference does it make?
i will still follow you horizon to horizon
sit in your gravity
stretch my time
around you
what i desire
is for your light to
follow me home & stay
til sunrise
i keep my windows open just in case
your beams care to sliver through my cracks
gift me a dream or two