Across the forest, we sit
in a deer stand shaped like a heart.
A cry comes from the center of the woods
like wind blowing through a doll’s head.
There are birds that come out at night
just to be devoured by other birds.
I can’t make things happen faster
than they’re going to happen.
I know that now.
If your thick arms come out
of the shadows only to light smokes
or hold my hand expertly in yours,
I need to accept it.