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Eliot
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branch of the vine
Poems
May 2020
Charity
apologies written over my head
deep in the earth, over my head
under the ground, over my head
blacker than my teeth from the womb
left too long in darkness, unable to resurrect
speak to me with charity
a shot glass of thought
muddled up by me, in the mirror
a child
(a person)
a kid
(a soul)
no one
(everyone)
written into my muscle
like January
"I am so sorry"
Written by
branch of the vine
22/F/England
(22/F/England)
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