Omaha is where the train tracks stretch

out their rickety legs one hundred feet above the ground.

where i stand with you and catch the wind

and you say, “trust your body,”

and you tell me that we will not fall.

Omaha is where the sunsets hang

between the telephone wires, where my days bleed

into one unfurling breath,

a shout into the night,

my skin against the street,

a daring experiment with what it means to love.

Omaha is where i reach my hands down deep

and unearth that wild noise

that hides inside the skyline

that hangs like a song inside our virgin mouths.

in Omaha it’s four am and we are climbing

down from the rooftop and our lungs are swallowing

each other’s smoke but breathing each other’s love.

and we are driving fast over that concrete bridge

that restless passage between east and west

we are unfolding our arms as the world tumbles by

and in Omaha it’s morning

and we are falling

backwards

into the womb

of the sun.