i must remind myself
that people don't own places
no matter how much they feel like home
and that piece of grass
that feels like my mothers embrace
is just a mirror
i've buried my hope inside a vault
said a prayer
closed my eyes and said goodbye
shushing grasshoppers along the way
all that can be heared are my muffled sobs
and the echos of halfhearted steps
dragging metal across green damp strands of the earths scalp
i reassure myself that this is the way it has to be
the pungent smell of death and decay
the earth engulfs all our sorrows
embraces our dead
harbors our wars
and we too will pass
another disease the earth must rid itself from
and all that will be left
is a few bones clattering together for warmth
and a woman
whose gaze
follows you wherever you go

son of man
glimmer of hope
in Plato's cave
or my throat
mend metal
tear apart homes
the unexpected visitor of Rome
you arrive when summoned
but often overstay
some might say
you are superior to clay

it's widely accepted that one gains visibility in exchange for their earthly flesh
and often I wonder
am I ready for that trade

graciously
you allow me to stay
I thank the walls, the halls and corridors
for sheltering my most beloved
what thanks do I have to offer
to repay such great a debt
do I kiss the feather?
do I hug tiles that have hugged your figure many, many nights?
it smells of you
but feels nothing like you
why won't you hold me back?
must I take the shape of tiles?
then tiles I will be

years apart and here we are
breaking jigsaw pieces
in time they'll fit, the sun will burn its ridges, then the rain, timidly at first
puts out the flames and all at once
it pours
just as I have done
break apart and put yourself together all you want
this puzzle is missing
no peace

the day i was born
i was given a knife
slice open letters if you like
the day i was born
the moon sighed
and the world did not stand still
barely moved
and i was an infant with a knife
i carried all my life
and on days where i am less content with my life
i feel a prickly jab on my sides
remember
you have a knife