Value

what if i get to die and be air
that taxis birdsongs 
to other avian ears

or what if i save mundane for Saturday,
leaving grief and questions for Sunday,
letting Monday through most days 
be for breathing,
allowing one small annoyance 
to make every day normal

what if i try and pick a day to make a vow
or maybe stop short 
with just considering a promise to jump the broom 
and live the paradox
that no one loves without risk,
and what if i actually did 
the thing a person should —
to see the girl AND the woman too
letting the tongue know salt from sour
and tell that story everywhere

and what if faith 
can only be 
intimacy
with what i see 
mirrored
in the eyeball of intoxication