the quiet act of holding, 2020
On our backs is the rolling sheet
Of freshly drawn cloud
An unyielding burden heavy
With its own immensity its
Caress like warm spring air.
On our faces were the crevices
Of deep histories and lips destroyed
The sigh and silence of no recall
The undoubtable truth
Present along the bridge of noses
Dark and silver with the sheen of day.
the quiet act of holding, 2020