your ground loves in imprints

I remain the beloved daughter

Of dug up trees

Falling into holes once full 

God made it very beautiful

Their demise 

The sun shone 

Even

While the moon rose to greet it 

The implicit towers you erected 

What couldn’t grow

But nevertheless stayed 

Our offerings 

Of what could remain 

There lie pasts I did not properly bury

Did not cover with stones 

Surrendered in spoons, fed fats

Greased for leaving 

Free from pleading

A union of causes 

The most frightened waters wail

Mothers to cry

No distinction between their fates 

To retrace their fiery pneumatic steps 

Leading back to the seat of 

Thing not yet pertaining to simple ether

Either

I’d like the impact to prove illusion too is real 

Her life, 

Both summer and winter 

A dance to follow your lead

In a dim wisdom 

The importance of broken things 

Not unlike running away with words 

Back matter

Only allowed, permitted to speak in 

Parables line, we collapse 

A proud sin, fear is

Breaking the square of the circle 

Swollen with time

With sickness, despair 

Rust finds it alone

Preparing for gold 

Desperate to bind together

Our collective tissue