Marsh

The year was unrelenting, we argued all the time. I obliterate your positions, and you know just how to obliterate mine. Online, we talk, or say we talk, mute and block. I should turn this thing off, I know I should give it up, So I took a walk down the road, and at the bottom of the hill, a muddy river overflowed, and a swamp in the eddy had filled the ditch with bullrushes and reeds, black water puckers with bodies. Water striders, mosquitoes pierce my jeans. I try to really see the beauty, the blue and green, and light green, and yellow green, and blue green and grey green, and muddy green - but all I can see today is black. Like the new moon sky. Like when you close your eyes - those stars don't guide you anywhere. But there is no other there, that I have found so far, no any other anywhere, but here. Now it falls, the first tear.
And when they hold the election, this argument may end. But everything depends on it still, if we don't argue they will. I can't even watch the starlings fly when I know I can't can't count even on this, tangle of grasses. The chance is this. Everything balanced on a kiss. Penetration of peel and pith. A body puckers the surface to take a breath -