Under everything,
rocks, soil, worms and dead wasps...

Astute and aware, he stood
glaring at the morning sun, like...

A skelf pierces my brittle skin as we sit
cross-legged on the corroded floorboards...

Look between the indentations of
skin that has aged through...

The fire of the autumn sun
burns against the grain...

Wandering fae dances with the leaves
in her hair and moonstone reflecting...

Legs tangled together
like outstretched branches of a tree...

We eat cherries together,
squatting like birds among the branches...