the beast of this forrest
is within me.
the moss of my eyes,
the mulch
of my feet collapsing
into footsteps.
on past the wild roses,
honeysuckle,
dew of the morning
that forms
& disappears into
the sun,
the impossible hours
continue.
last night
i dreamt of the beach
where we numbered
the starfish
by the stones.
the diving birds
dropped on me
as if i, myself, were
a missing fish,
trapped beneath
the waters
below the air.
the ocean
is quietly away now,
making moods of the seasons
that are its home.
& i'm left
with these vast fields
to heal me,
the sea of grass
that holds
some unknown fortune
as of yet
to be reborn.
promises
get lost amogst the leaves,
carried through the trees
until they're gone.
i plant my own hands
beneath the soil
& wait for them to grow,
as if hands
were dormant lillies
in their bulbs,
as if my body
could sprout forth
such long forgotten
blooms into the world. |
Submission Name: dormant lillies
