Monday, November 26, 2012

Davy’s Box.

Davy Jones' locker,
I know your heart is inside
I can hear it beating hollow and quiet,
just an empty space in its cage,

bronze and mallow
with bone and marrow,
the remnants linger just under
its sinewy surface,

here under water
while the dirt is below,
a hundred years it's been waiting
in its soft green grave,

lychen and shallow
your arms reach for branches,
only leaves will resort
to your fingers in the earth

the embrace of,
roots and copper,
your lungs’ only
bedfellow.

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