Poetry

Bloom of Tombs

Photo: Michael Haida. CC0/Public Domain license.

[[ Find me there
in the Bloom of Tombs. ]]

Gloom was inherent, inherited maybe — they told of children drowned in gene pools { (( . )) } I was baptized there for the Savior’s grace : some told there was room in his borders.

| ~ | But that looming thing, the arresting blessing ;; it could not be stripped from a soul. I implored the scores of scathing thoughts — they quipped all biting, waned wit.

And so unsated, the womb called back // “Safety so numberless,” she whispered. All amniotic — the ego amnestic — I fashioned her behind a door ¡

Then premature Time: they struck the hinges, removed the wood ;-; my boon ;-; \\ I am so exposed to those constant throes — these words, the only peace.

[[ So find me there
in the Bloom of Tombs,
In the ground
( <> ) So world renowned.
These busted births
garner no worth,
but in Earth’s bosom,
{ |.| } I may blossom. ]]