Fallen Silt
I'm crying against the brick wall, by the aspen trees we used to sit between, within the spring time of our love. Cracked mortar scatters the floor and reflects crystalline pure. In the glow of refracted light, my tears hit and fall Pressing into kaleidoscopic mirrors. We have breached passed the summer and we watch our love fade like the colors of the leaves in the autumn air. I just can't breathe the way I used to. I would like to dig a hole and crawl in. sinking into this new womb digging into my skin. The dirt could find a temporary home in my pores. I would like to use that warmth to keep my cold heart beating. The home that I've dwelt, is cracked and torn the bed that I've slept, is tattered and worn It's a shell that I'll shed It is not my true form. I sit by the river where we used to stay. Now the worms have gone to sleep, and the ground is so cold. the silt has fallen to reveal the bottom of the bed. This is our bed now....