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dazmb May 2015
these rustling leaves come alive
binding earth to words, running wild in woods
the ghosts of trees in books
dazmb May 2015
in bed, aware
that nothing outside
this moment
is real

next to me, you lie
with your hand on my chest
dazmb May 2015
a sucker punch
and a tooth
casually discarded
dazmb May 2015
wolf, sworn silent
indifferent, but listening
through a slant in the shadow
where language is nothing
but an attention to scent
dazmb May 2015
childhood grief
the sun lingers on
and the house smells
of someone walking home
I reach for my mother’s arms
in sorrow and safekeeping
dazmb May 2015
A white poem
A pure poem
A poem that reaches the dirt
underneath your fingernails.
dazmb May 2015
out in the tundra
there is never
the gentle end
you long for
just eye teeth
that pursue you
for a glint of sky
deep in the bone
dazmb May 2015
snow is falling
silently waiting
for the scrunch of a story
then watching indifferently
as a fox disappears
down an alley
dazmb May 2015
we bury the dead
as bone deep ghosts to ourselves
relying instead
on the earth
to return us uprooted
as something pagan and pure

— The End —