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60 x 20

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the weight of clouds,
settled on the raw, sticky
blood stained skin of my
sandstone spine


the burden of duty
words owed
all the reasons for my vacant stare
one degree from perfection


I found my dark edges
hidden caverns of myself
grey shelves of scraping armor
crashing slices into the sea.


tender, soft earth
left against the coastal wind,
cracks to expose, open wounds to fill in. 
residue – a requirement to carry you
infinitely.


& who am I
if I don’t manifest
these opaque dreams
who am I if I can’t show you
who you’re meant to be?
who am I
if I deprive you,
this exquisite journey of discovery?

I owe you nothing.
I only choose.
swimming in this stream,
& delighting in the belief of you. 

my lips, held, still.
longer than the pull of this unraveling thread. 
words slung like marbles in my throat,
sown into my complicit mouth.

I carry you.

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SOLD

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