The herbalist

Yeah the moon is full as fuck
& shining on my face I rub my skin
the dirt and warmth I feel it
lingering on the wrinkles of my
forehead I want to go back to
Wyoming someday outside of Pinedale
away from all the spiderwebs that
don’t matter to you I’ve got a seat
on the edge of the sage bush I’ve sat
watched the stigmas wilt the flies
covered mouths until unspoken flickering
crack the window just to feel it wonder
where we are in these new ways ellipse
beneath the moon you’re supersaturated
don’t be a fool & go revoke the only
thing keeping you alive asleep you cooled down
but you were boiling just yesterday they
wanted to run us out of town we drank
your poppies by the side of the road
we wore your moonflowers while we spooned
in the bus & fled to San Francisco


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