your friends have mostly left
that cracked-static city
but not for hometowns, certainly
not for glaswerk-cubuś domeczki
glimmering on the floodplains

but here she is loving how
he renders tree leaves
in woodblock prints, just as
your exclusive goal
must remain change

even yesterday, mistaking
horse for dog, even the way
you move through me
means I’m not in such a bad mood

not that which occurs upon decline
of a superpower, being unfollowed
by a life coach marketing self
or a declared desire for sympathy

we both know birch tree bark
can be removed in borrowed territories
but without you and the houseplants
nothing much more should exist

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