Homesteaders

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I’ll take your thigh road,
so rugged, overgrown,

that you and I can build upon each other
here, in our bed,

seeking safety at the end
of one more untamed day.

Just split the difference
between urge and play

to lay my timber,
making us safer, more certain.

Let’s hold each other tight
and light ourselves on fire, then

sing simple hymns of victory:
you over me—me over you—

us over pressing death
still standing at our window

scratching.