Amongst many to feel
you sleep in your angry
curled-up ball.
To soften your eyes.

Where have you been
my love?
What can you know?
When did this seed of
you now, find itself home?

Why could I dream of you
before you laid here?
To know some parts of you
fills me with fear.

And dread.
I’ll have to confess my
earth-prints too.