his fingers dig into the dirt
like a priest bends for prayer.
his feet are rooted to the ground
and his lips taste like the earth.
in the trees he hides himself,
clothed in a vestment of mist
clutched between ***** fingernails.
in the sand is laid out all the words
he's ever truly known: the word
of the sand is what he lives by.
Aug 6, 2011
Aug 6, 2011 at 11:16 AM UTC
his fingers dig into the dirt
like a priest bends for prayer.
his feet are rooted to the ground
and his lips taste like the earth.
in the trees he hides himself,
clothed in a vestment of mist
clutched between ***** fingernails.
in the sand is laid out all the words
he's ever truly known: the word
of the sand is what he lives by.
