Red drops and red lips
Open heart and broken bones
Blue skin and no flow

He sang along to the trumpets in his head,
as the radio once did.
"I'll always be there for you,"
He stuttered past his heart.
The coldness locking his beath
in a frozen cloud of smoke
intertwining in the frosted skies,
"Then you told me no,"
His hands quivered in his sleeves where scars left no marks,
while his voice was breaking like broken bones.
He never finishes his dying lyrics,
with the notes dangling in the air,
for someone else to pair.
And an iris left at the stairs.

I want to know where I’m from
the very place—
a finger tip touch on a globe spinning
drawn to as by magnet
a return, cup filled
with holy water
an arrival

I am a hedgewitch
navigating the slippery edge
where land meets water
body meets spirit
I meets we—
listening
unearthing the violence
of conviction, the thunderous tearing up
of roots, my people unbound
and running
where are they? (where am I?)
If not in land and place
where do our spirits rest?

There in the lowlands, eyes softening
my bones shift and settle, senses
rise and quiver, and the winds bring stories
fermented by the sun
preserved by salty ocean
retold in the language of tiny creatures
and deep roots—
those that remained

I want to lie down in soil made up of my ancestors,
embraced by bones

Slipping and falling
apart
Brittle and frail
bones
Can I return this vessel?
I need to go home.
-elb-

your body will sting when you remember his hands
and you'll start contaminating your skin with the touch of strangers hoping all remnants left of his finger-tips fade away
self-love sounds like a foreign language since he walked away
but loving yourself is a process, long overdue
his name is not a synonym for contentment
I know there is a longing deep within your bones and it feels as though he's the only person who could satisfy it
this is your body whispering that it is time to love it back
you are allowed to lay down your weapons and give up the war with yourself

All these years spent
building a home
out of the bricks
of my fragile bones
and now I find myself
talking to the stars
in the soft moonlight
for I am a skyscraper.