a puce stone from afar

 

Walking through

heather and fern

onto a mountain hill

 

Laying

on a bed of stones

 

they press into my body

from different angles

 

Placing a hand

on my stomach

and wonder

 

where your stone

is placed

 

Finding a puce rock

weightless

filled with pores

 

ready to carry

your whispers

 

and fill the opaque holes

with auriferous veins

 

that your

words do

 

I will bring air

Home

 

 

It awaits your skin

 

 

if you are

ever in need

 

 

 

to be held

 

 

Related Blogposts

Am I the reason? Where is my sanity located -? In my body? Who is sane? Destruction comes in many shades – it is a mechanism necessary in a process of development. To leave behind – to forgive – to let, decay. When we forgive we destroy an old thought…