waiting on the harvest

my blanched bones

are crumbling

in the soil

of my garden


the lavender

and thyme.

my heart has

satisfied its

open rebellion.

i have danced

with rolling


and kissed

the lips

of a crescent


i drink from

a deeper well.

malignant spirits

cannot disturb

my rest.

i am not

distressed by

the dead

of night.

there is

no need

on this road

of roses,

all radiant red.

birds are singing


to the trees.

my dogs run

for nothing,

i chase them

in their game.

this is where

my love is sown.

he is the

caretaker of

my seed.

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