pulled by the tumult of your hurricane.
swirling in soot from the bosom of your womb.
said would not be I,
not I,
not I.
but it was I.
I who knotted myself into your marble carved trapdoors-
scent of water brushing through intersecting roots.
facedown in clay
quicksand
whispering desert poems
air follicles
bursting at the surface of your brunette-painted dark assumptions
sentences crack like dry bark
anchors drag me to deepest indigo sea
away
away
closest reddening eyes
for the shivering slash of dawn
hits my transparent eyelids
a futuremelody
played backward
and not a trial heard for reckoning,
yet.
rode newly furbished bicycles through darkened downtown streets
illuminated ice-
dry, thick with wool.
steeped in dusty hues of mountain sunsets.
rapid annihilation of curated sparks
or mingling sentences;
wavelengths snapped at their seams
reveal dazzling individual crystals inside.
we ourselves are individuals.
shimmer
and continue hovering.
scale stagnant waters;
be risen up
and completely anew.
