And when you tore out the roots of pain
I read them and a mountain had moved,
rocks tearing scars into crevice.

But then you took the roots,
calmly passed them out to all attending,
tortured umbilical cords to the past.

Did you just do that?
Did you just lie with your belly up
bark bursting to stars
hoping no one would hurt you,
while the molten swash under our feet
threatened to swallow
every god damn ounce of innocence left in us?

Life is so vulnerable here on the crust.
The least we can do is share our roots.



In the space between our sighs the night had opened
and you were needing the empty air.
I had given it to you before.
The stinging comfort,
The safety of ages past when we were wild grass.
But now the wind had turned us out.
And over ambient gusts,
starving for photosynthesis,
We still had light to give