on a Saturday morning in your favorite park, outrunning yourself
on the advice of someone who used to love you. It’s all in your head,
your body is fine. Listen to your body. You stretch yourself a mile
down the path, only stopping to witness the water.

summertime and Florida bound, dancing along the shore just
before midnight. Do you know how dark the beach gets at night?
How the ocean never ever ends? Fearless, fearless.

at the mouth of the golden gate bridge on a rainy day. You drop
a penny from the side and watch the slip of copper until you can’t.
You don’t get the urge to crawl over, not even once. The sun comes
out to congratulate you on how far you’ve come. Really, how far
you have come.

in a field, there are wildflowers. The tallest one is the color of
a cloud’s underbelly at sunset. That’s the one.

midday on a bluff, with the sun at your back, winded and tender
from the hike. In autumn, in spring, in love.

at sunrise, the billowing steam from the building across the way
cuts through the sky. It’s dreamy and your morning view at least
half of the week when you are 29 and reeling. You are just weeks
sober and your body knows it in ways you wish it didn’t. No one
ever taught you to feel a feeling out right, but you’ll learn. At least
now you know where to look.

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