dig me a boneyard in a field of daffodils —
beneath their sunlit softness
and rustling leaves;
they aren't the first things
my body would ever taint.

i used to tremble as sunlight ran down my skin:
a crouching, wounded fawn
that knew no god —
and if there was, it would be of death.
i used to tremble as sunlight ran down my skin,
before dissolving into
a thousand foreign sorrows i cannot name.
now, sunlight just leaves a trail of smoke —
a forest fire beneath my feet
and no ashes to rise from.

now the rain just falls passively on the soil
but what good is petrichor
when it's your body that rots beneath the dust?

for out of it were you taken;
and unto it shall you return.

dig me a boneyard in a field of daffodils —
beneath their sunlit softness
and rustling leaves;
they aren't the first things
my body would ever taint.


dig me a boneyard and call it transgression.
i was not the first thing
i did ever taint.