a handful of acorns
like growths
strangle my throat
the potential for an extended stay
in the home of my flesh
Could you be the end of my days?
Fear grips my insides
with the insights of life and loss
you’ve no mouth yet
yet you whisper
don’t worry
I’ve come to be with you
just for a moment
not alone
don’t be afraid
the attachment to flesh, to stories
to being responsible for shaping me
holding me
was not slated
I have come to grace your heart
with your own love for yourself
clinical white and stainless steel
are as inappropriate
you whisper
as the screen shot
ghostly
microscopic beat
that wraps the tears that blind
adamevenevenadam 