still silence

patterns misaligned from 

the immediate population

notches unsynchronized 

with the empty 


spaces between arteries 

solitary walks 

to where the geese swim

brainwaves rambling 

tattered pieces 


tossed from feeble fingers

when I look down 

at my hands


haven’t eaten

this little tree’s 

got my heart 

beating out

of the rubble, tattered

cement patchwork, iron 

twisted wires it holds 

fresh, vulnerable blooms

like balancing

little vital beating organs 

in your palms

on your head

silent surrendering from 

hollow places 

open, pretty wounds 

the slowest spiral twist

towards the light

out towards the sunlight  


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