His sterility laced with feigned humanity
Touched my face through the phone
My attempt to warm him thwarted
I know pointlessness when I hear it

Flakes of fake barrenness sent back to him
It’s a language he understands
And I was dealing with cold matters anyway

I remembered to love the little ones this time
I had forgotten yesterday
Life will always be there to remind me
No need to concern myself with that

The blameless day went on
In balance and harmony
Perhaps the equinox was real
Perhaps there were more important things
Than the idea of numbers
And what I can exchange them for

The words from the book nestle
Cosily in my sulci
They were actually already there
They just needed to be bolded, underlined and italicised
I wear the blue feather in my hair

Why did this idea, this longing
Take a lifetime to break through the surface of dirt?
Perhaps I answer my own questions
Heavy soil is hard to pierce in upward broken motions

With the sifting and sorting settled
Every beam of light and dark converge
Meeting in the centre
Of the beginning of my completion.


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