I thought about love
with long arms
The understanding that death
is another plane.
Rats, perhaps go there.
We hear that rat heaven is
the best place ever

I love you
with long arms.
Challenge the psychics
that plant memories of the future
in my head,
records of the past.
The past.
It could have another plane–
it might radiate with
impermanence.

I was loved
with long arms.
Appreciated the small things–
capital letters and the right
to apply myself to poetry.
To open a book up in the middle
and see the words
but read them in another’s voice.

What are long arms,
but to love and read.
But to plant flowers and wait.
Forget to water, thank the rain.
Roll on the grass in the spider path.
Rats can bend their arms like that,
too.