amidst the mauled lands of my fallen mind
you once wandered restlessly, mercilessly pinching my
paper skin until your icicle breath wrapped me up
still unaware that my tears would finally refold as
buttercup seeds hidden within the ashes you had left, like
lacy grains of inner hope, sown within the foggy gorges of my sorrow
a playful waltz for the dried up brooks
craving the old dusts to bloom