the sun hangs lazy in the afternoon air
and i am tending to a fresh tattoo.
there is nowhere to be but lost in this ink,
contemplating the folds of love
and the rejection of relationship.
a good friend is like a wild blackberry,
and a best friend has thorns.
i aspire to be soft as the Utah breeze today,
tending lackadaisically northeast,
touching lips and temples and messy hair
gentle as knee high grass and
fearless as thunder.