Sharp

there is a smallness
in this moment
that takes up
the everything

the world is sharp.

there is a smallness here,
surrounded by
the echoes of bass notes
and songs unfinished
that wraps me up
and insulates me
just for now
from everything

there is a smallness in
your breath
that makes me larger than
the world
(is sharp)

there is permission to be
combat boots and
faded hair and
sugar after midnight
and alone
inside the smallness
we live in.

outside the world
(is sharp)
is fighting me with
razor words and crumpled trust and
life domestic trivialities
you make me small enough
to hide
from everything.

there is a smallness in
your touch
and we are atoms inside
atoms inside atoms inside
atoms inside
everything

(the world is sharp
and he reminds me
that winter is just part
of where we are)

there is a smallness in this
moment
wrapped in something almost tastes like
understanding

the world is sharp and we are
small enough
to slip between the blades.