Strange object at sundown

Brittle heart

Living off the salt

Fighting for survival

Faithful as dogs

Broken as rock

The soil taking its soul

In the blaze of the sun

Stinging itself to death

~
The beauty
Of your nest
Lies in knowing
What hides within
Is better than the rest

A glimpse through your foliage
Reveals a soft calyx
The petals of which are
The enthroned souls of the faithful
But a trap door nonetheless

When I enter
You will sigh
When I keep at it
You will know why
Angels sing
~

sometimes you cry
when you are making soup
because you’re the
saddest of the saddest of the saddest
of the sad

.15mm dot after dot after dot
after dot
and line after line after line
after line

and you say what you
can’t say
without saying
a thing