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.