the birds & the butterflies all fighting & fucking like the bees back home, my toes browning under florida sun, my heart all fluttering & aching & pulsing purple gold & green, & I'm learning to let go. still, I look for pop-pop down each orange grove dirt road, knowing pop-pop is dead. & I reach for you in the passenger seat, knowing you're not there. this knowledge makes it hard to breathe until I dance, my heaving limbs throwing themselves into the beat with abandon, a ballsy balancing act. baby, bye. I drive, make temples out of muddy pastures, spend my last dollar on a music-man just so I can stop searching for your hand & I am howling with the wind, & when she howls back I am taken aback, as if in my search my breath stirs hers, as if I've tapped into the secret language of the world.
Loved the rhythm. Don't know if you meant them to work that way, but I found the ampersands to be just enough visible to offer a visual counterpoint to the lack of linebreaks. Either way, I like the effect here.