let every part of you drop;
let each joint sink back
down through the soil of which you grew from.
put what beats you on ice,
and freeze it,
and remember what warmed you.
that heat, which clouded
your body, and burned through the half moons
under your eyes.
you once thought,
that your chest
could no longer hold all of the fingerprints which
you’d laid upon it;
but you had only just begun.
and now every groove
of skin is just another corner
where two ends have met,
if only to move
farther than the tides.
