birth

121: Juniperus communis

Better to feel the sting, it said. Better to
drop the box of sharpened diamonds, chiseled.
Better to lock it, hidden treasures
antiquated life underneath blue cover;
rusted, red peeks through the shine
and yet, still the embers of fire inside...

STILL:
Make reminders along the landscape,
remembrance in the crevasses of faults.
Soft terrain,
The ground heals itself and so it remains
yr. calm & gentle friend,
both burnt and yearned and left away.

120: With a bow and scissors

Cover myself in your words,
I wish to be wrapped in them, enveloped so
that I may never lose them,
'Lest I lose the self.