In some other cosmic shooting of our words and tangible meshing of our tongues.
I thought I was listening
or maybe the angels didn’t speak loud enough
or my ridges were
far too rough.
I’m home beneath the woven galaxies
that circle my spirit and speak
In all that’s been torn down
and dissolved to ash…
Words blanket the bleeding and feed your need to move again.
I was taken and forever changed.
I was relocated and never the same.