why are you crying. a few answers

I went for a walk with the dog & thought I’d forgotten her leash as it sat heavy in my hand. I blew my breath into the trees so green they are blue, but they were only bending to welcome the wind. I watched the sky spit out stars like summer seeds & still felt the pull of tide like it was a wrecking made for me. it is like I swear I went to sleep & in the night the whole house cracked its knuckles so that every decoration moved to a different & better place I’d never thought of. then the whole neighborhood came by to gift us things that said yes, you could never have done anything so jewel-like. did you know you helped me to learn to smile at myself in the mirror? taught me a few tactics to catch the bird in the attic of my brain that parroted all the dirt things I’ve ever seen or done or felt by someone else’s clumsy hand.  I don’t think I can give an honest to god love poem; maybe if I forgot how much it bakes to think of you anywhere but happiest. maybe I am crying because I found a dictionary inside me that lists stay as what love is saying. I woke up in the hallway, woke up in bed, woke up in this house newly manicured & you were here, here, always right next to me. my bones unbreak from such a thing & I cannot give that a name. my feet ache. same nightmare as before. the dog needs to go out again & I love you.