Jill Mann | Withered Fruit

into our hearts

we let the coldness climb

to the sounds of senseless chide

on mother’s cheek bone


beneath the table

hugged and kissed goodbye

the childhood we tried to keep

from curdling

before her straining eyes



two crowns lay

next to our misshapen attempts

at savior





now is the time for dreaming

run away, the souls of you and me


we will floss with shapes in the clouds

gazing down on our departed tides



bring us to wash in the river

remember our faces in sunlight

flowered kings welcome us home




in our resting place of stone


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