A simple word,
A fevered soul
Come upon the threshold that holds you so.
So deep the vacancy of your arms.
You pull and push your way, through mists and webs
We hold each other with ghost hands
We hear the cannons fire and see all that burns
We return to the ash that bore us doomed
I wait for your breath upon my skin
You dress the canyons and fields with gentleness
You remain hidden in lace and churn the water into an ocean.
We taste the earth and return unbroken
Seeking our way home.