for memories that hunt, remember
we are solid born, offspring of the salty sea.
ached vertebrate, kinky strands of tall solid rocks;
a communion of black, ash, kilned terracotta
& this loamy soil that breaks in our palms.
we did have a deal of great romance;
you and I, heartcode— for memories
remember, we are blossoms of dead pasts,
clay lovers shattering into fragments of time.
& when the music plays. & when orchestras
of pain, like bottled up thunder in
strands of sky lightning, roar—
& when epiphany arrives; remember.
we are seeds of broken China in the sun.
zygotes of axe digging resurrection.