I spent the day studying the curvature of your face;

Exploring the dips below your cheek bones;

The hollows of your ears;

The marshes under your eyes;

I don’t know if skin counts as treaty land

But I think we’ve probably shared the space between layers.


I spent the night lying in dead spruce needles

Listening to owls tell me




There’s nothing for you here

We occupy countless nights together

Following cigarette smoke like traplines

Back to somewhere we’re not sure we belong

Maybe if we took a minute and listened to the wind

And the whispers it tells to cedar boughs we would hear it tell us

Give up and go back home

You don’t belong here

tangled in our roots

You take the advice and make a raft out of moss and mud

Retreat to muskeg and I sink down with you.

Swallowed by soft permafrost and clinging to dead pine

The water laughs and taunts me

I told you so.


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