moss poem / surrendering
a grief explosion, an undoing, so i don't implode
today the rain feels like permission
it says yes
to the rip in the sky
to my heart splitting open
to the ferns breathing up my insides
exquisite soft muffled ones
untangled ones, i don’t even know which
of them to make
this moss is threading something wet
like a kind of forgiveness on the hill
i am surrendering
i am doing it now
finally when the air is on fire and it glistens, believe
i will choke into the sky like
a vapour
or a lightning bolt
~
“this moss is threading something wet
like a kind of forgiveness on the hill”
Ohh this is what you meant when you said the air quality kind of fucked you
✨