still have dirt under your nails
from unearthing me,
pulled me by arms from the ground,
told me bear fruit and flame,
that the words will come at night,
shed her coarse skin on my limbs,
how this might scald me,
how to gut the charcoal from the wound
sketch the story down.
how to bed roots between stones,
look how my feet are soiled now
I have been walking,
just like you taught me.
branching out and growing
turning leaves over trying to find you below one
you and your stubble fingers,
their silver-black lining
and the run in your feet.
from unearthing me,
pulled me by arms from the ground,
told me bear fruit and flame,
that the words will come at night,
shed her coarse skin on my limbs,
how this might scald me,
how to gut the charcoal from the wound
sketch the story down.
how to bed roots between stones,
look how my feet are soiled now
I have been walking,
just like you taught me.
branching out and growing
turning leaves over trying to find you below one
you and your stubble fingers,
their silver-black lining
and the run in your feet.
She will visit you one night.
burn her language into your chest
bitemark my name onto your skin,
the forest does not forget the footsteps men have buried in it
you will remember,
but by then I will be ground and gone.
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