speckled end

in the tempered corner of my mouth
when sounding out home
i am cupping a tri-colour paw, cross-legged on a loveseat
as two dark eyes fold to slits
ears stop listening to threats in the breeze
as the teaspoon weight of a face trustfalls against me
i listen to the steady press of sleep move
through a body too small for grief

and i am here, for this

from the empty jars of spring
strung along the bus stop like love locks,
and the capricorn hooves unafraid to
jump in and kiss first
i am finding my heart in the strangest places:
in my underwear drawer, an unmentionable i learned to hide from company
at the bottom of grocery bags, asleep among the carrots
that slow me as i cut them apart, watching my fingers stay whole
beside the blade
some days, in my own chest

at the speckled end of a retrograde
sitting tall against the red brick
i am telling a heart shaped stranger of a year that tore through me
my spirit, the straight line the broom makes across the dance floor
i am confetti, i am shards of glass, i am lost rings

walking home from the Skytrain, i pass a pair of pastel lips,
frayed mittens,
a sign that reads fleeing abuser

i have unlearned my hesitance
i am untelling the many-legged shame
it can keep dry in the basement
my wallet is bills lighter as i reach my back door

i am waking each morning, face kissed with second chances.