Each nascent love life grants
grows more deeply,
much like roots reaching,
plummeting through stiff earth
unable to recant.
Wrinkles rougher and
affections ripened
much like years passing,
seeding the ground with pieces of me
I have lost.
Woven and nurtured
by the pudendum of time,
much like waters running,
carrying away the sorrows
of this industrial land.
This notion that burns
in me cannot be tamed
much like fires roaring,
bellowing smoke and sparks
to illuminate this once sullen sky.