Dear _______________
Mom/Dad/Austin/Hannah/Joanna/Jacob/Jesus:
Today it rained for the first time in days
and I thought about walking on water
how maybe it’s not so impossible
because in some places, the
only water is underfoot.
Think about Kansas—there’s not water enough
there to make a puddle, much less walk on.
Think about well-diggers, treasure hunters
who see lakes in every dried up dirt path.
Think about muddy Southern states
where snake bites are sins. If
we measured love in water,
you would be my body.
I would be your
womb.
But love is never water and I am neither here nor there.
Snakebites have never meant anything but hospital visits.
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