I understand dirt, dogs, and centipedes that hide. I understand crowing roosters, birds making birds and bees sucking the center of blossoms.
Unable to see the spirits in the trees, the ghosts in the gulch, the unicorns in the distance.
I understand the cement streets of New York, the cobble stones of Italy, the dirt roads of Ireland, the bridges of France, the buildings of Spain.
Not sure of premonition or dreams, or DMT.
I understand sailing with whales, flying with birds, swimming with turtles, walking with dogs, my husbands voice, my sons smile, my mothers kiss, my fathers hug.
I can't see the fairies that take you off the path, the curse on my aunts house, the lady on the foot of my bed, the man around the corner.
I can see my friends longing, threads from spider webs blowing in the breeze, the lines on my face, sunsets on the West side, the hook of Scorpio shining through my bedroom window, the dipper through the bathroom.
We met and unity is our card. We've pulled it. We've dreamt it. We've lived it. Now I'm going all mystical, all woo-woo and I'm not telling anyone about the lunar eclipse and all the planets in Gemini and the two becoming half and each going in the same direction, holding the flower in one hand, the wand in the other.
The story, the love story, that brought lightning from the dark sky, where the sun was hidden by the moon, on a Wednesday morning, on the second to last day of May.