Territories

The territories we carved out for our children in the woods. Dirt we dug into but only a few feet. The time I kicked you in the nose and blood poured out. I bicycled home. Units of measurement lost on the wind. Microwaves crushed our souls from outer space. Guns and eggs in baskets. The terrible realization that we’d been right all along. I took you upstairs and undressed us both. Feeling our way along the walls in the dark. Milky smoke flowing beneath the door. The well down the hill we fell into and crawled out of reborn. Yards stacked on top of each other. Green grass braided into gowns for our wedding day. The customs of the locals at the grocery store. Pawing at the vegetables. Fat hands slippery over the surface of the world.