The bones had to set when we broke them and we set them in the earth amid the burn in the skeletons of former homes still smoking to grow new cells we needed––
hold still they told us meaning faith but without work it looked half dead in the mirrors
we listened for wolves and saved the prints in boxes for someday when we would sort them all
out into a proper display but what happens when the waters rise
is that sometimes you have to jump to the next roof and hope it holds.
Hey Siri, asked in secret, What do you know of shelter?
It was something to do when knowing you had no service did not preclude the need to speak
we reached
ready for the next ledge she might have said you can wait until its dark
Siri we might have answered, I believe, to heal our unbeliefs.