If I jump out of the window
the leaves will catch me,
cradling through the air.
They put me down within
the earth. I punch a hole into
the ground, layers of skin are worn
away, history sandpapered
through the strata.
Soil all over me, becoming me
bones grind and the essentials
no longer mine. Mind.
Then the heat comes
and never stops.

This is really the first in a different section of poems. Normally I post poems that I didn’t want to submit to magazines, that I’ve written just to share on this blog or that have been specifically written for an online project. This one is one that I’ve submitted a few times but hasn’t been taken up. Maybe it needs an edit? Perhaps it’s just not very good, or people can’t connect to it. Either way, as it doesn’t have a home being submitted it is now finding a home here.


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