Could it be your crashing
Back to Earth
and where I placed you
In the dirt.

I was hoping for your seed to bloom

I imagine you in spirals of growth
Moving to and from me
Creating your own shelter
Through self molding
and where your cracks
lay in the foundation
I want you to swallow me whole
I will seep into your damages
be their soldered gold
I imagine your branches groaning
As you reach for the unknown
Movement is painful
And so is getting old