where i am what i carry
limestone in the architecture
of my teeth, old seas
gone hard inside me
the quake of shifting earth
the silent reach of filaments
dendrites threading through the soil
of this place
where i carry
forgotten songs to long-gone
stars
mud ripened by the bodies
i have absorbed into me
by teeth
caught in my right hand, the sick
gathered between my elbows and
my heart, the faces i have held between
these, my grandmother’s hands
Love those last two lines. Great work, Stacey!
Bartholomew, thank you. Cheers to you, friend : )