March and I was walking slowly
in between walls of decay
looking down at my hands I saw movement
the same as the decomposition of the displaced
organic material
had never felt so similar
to the crevices of skin on our
knees and elbows
I just wanted to be closer to her
to feel her warmth
there is a light that's not the moon
and as I circle my path
I find it in reflections that glow