years months days hours wide eyed and wet in the middle
flooding the grass with grim reaped tears through a voice of an angel
down the farm wet shuddering despair full to the ear’s brim
every minor chord of gutting regret
struck
I could never promise you a future a four am without fear
I belong to two islands a thousand miles apart with an epoch long aching to wander like a dog in search of a resting place to wheeze and fling one final critique on life’s superfluous complication across the polypropylene carpet
now you have a thump thump thump into the two thousand mortal coils and under you
his arms will unravel
my lovely sphinx forever buried in my dna fur snuffling truffling like the mysterious dancing light the tor presides over
silently right there in the murmur of an algae hue we lie
in a crackling peace waiting for the wicker flames to rise
licking each other clean
the farm falls dim damp dark exhausted from marching rites through mud and stone
the earth strong and loud I squeeze his hand
burning