in my palms
with broken veins and
artist eyes. but broken
are
my
veins.
warranted hearts
displeased paper and
white radicals filtered
through these opaque, heavy
nautical wings.
i am sea i am burnt sage
i am dusted particles
i am grounded in your earth
soul; your soul's earth.
yet; i worry on the lines
that i will forget to publish
our smiles.
we came from her womb
and i yearn for
the beige slumber
once
more.
