a new and wondrous grave

Climb down. I invite you to sink into the ground where I’ve been waiting to see if your eyes can meet mine without the sunlight making you squint and shift.

I hoped for too long you knew the way. I left you a map of envelopes and paper and stamps. You followed the trail until I lost grasp of your ears.

My voice lost its way and you, too.

In the maze, the ebb, the drop and folly, I grasped for new songs to soothe heavy hearts. But, too late, too late, I have forgotten

How to climb down to the tree house I was building in the city. I lost count of the letters, the words and their vowels. And I’ve set myself to digging a new and wondrous grave.

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