It’s Dangerous to Go Alone

French kissing is not the final
boss. First, navigate dungeons—learn
to craft the perfect cup of coffee

from items you gather on the way
through your kingdom—electric
guitars as gospel, Saturday morning

cartoons as saints. This religion
the smell of sidewalk chalk growing up
from the whorls on your fingers. Keep yourself

hidden beneath the tall grass—
breakable as stunt chairs, tripping over
mountains with feet like middle school

math. Check pieces of heart: little girls popcorn-
kernelling from your spoils. They’ll ask
to fashion a trellis from third & fourth

ribs on your left side (hey! listen!) a temple
to shapes you take: child – wolf – tree-mask.
To flute hawks down the riverbank, count

each autumn by calluses on your palms.
No easy way to travel between
these worlds. Time-song

will not grow your facial hair, no melody
to quicken the miracle of shaving cream.
Unwrap palm from controller & stand         one foot

taller than your oldest sister—
                                             wind-waker,
                                                         hero-shade.