Scope this heavy landscape.
A blinking eye blinded by unfolding roots.
Deflate this…this substance.
This substance that with an aching grasp,
these cracking fingers long to hold.
These eyelashes are chipped,
Dying from the breathless wind.
Telling of remarks that you could never begin to comprehend.
Yes, ask their questions.
Your lasting mind asking things not yet untold.
This is your figure.