Filling in...

So is the climb

So is the porous hole

Ants carrying in wings & tentacles

Why not a photo in exchange for a poem; a poem instead of a photo?

Better to fill them both up,

The space in between that each holds onto

...from any side

I dig for lilies between each wink of your deep-set eyes

My body a mess chiseled by your weary anguish

On the one table with chipped corners your pain that’s mine

Overflows, water reaching the four edges of the now stretched table

Drops fall, without fussing they settle on one another

I slip. My toes twist. I go after the expected swelling

My first elbow emerging at birth gets hurt by the uneven cement

My hair drawn on the floor piles up, it deflates

Stones weigh down the passing of three more days

Growing inside my perennial chest—a garden of its sustained tale

For someone else to ostend

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