gray days when the rain is relentless
but you know the seeds are taking root
under the skin of the earth
translucent, bare shoulders
a glittering trail of water over the milky exterior
emptiness is the blanket cloaking me
not warm or comforting
but a silhouette against your hide
cover the soft noises with soil
fresh from the soaked ground
charcoal tracings over the blue veins
and the deeper afflictions
thin mental on the red flower blooming from my wrist
there is nothing beautiful a scream cannot disguise
and in your voice an urgent red seeps forward
drips into everything gray about today
seams ripped and resewn together
this tessellation, a pattern, this reminder
that every ache is less than someone else's injury
and the ground spits forth only good
and swallows the bad seeds back into itself

Spring season, 2003