✦ ❦ ✦
The pantoum is a form of circling,
of repetition like growth,
like mycelium spreading through soil,
like love that refuses to let go
even in death.
of repetition like growth,
like mycelium spreading through soil,
like love that refuses to let go
even in death.
❦
Grave Dirt
I want to plant us in a grave together,
A final bed where our two bodies bloom.
I dream of us in sweet, decaying weather,
And spin your sinew on a silver loom.
A final bed where our two bodies bloom,
Your war-spent marrow, rich as river-silt.
And spin your sinew on a silver loom,
To be the thread that stitches out my guilt.
Your war-spent marrow, rich as river-silt,
Our tangled roots will drink a tea of bone.
To be the thread that stitches out my guilt,
We'll grow a lovely moss where we are sown.
Our tangled roots will drink a tea of bone,
My mycelium thoughts will find a home in you.
We'll grow a lovely moss where we are sown,
A velvet shroud of grey and midnight-blue.
My mycelium thoughts will find a home in you,
And wear your ribcage like a splintered throne.
A velvet shroud of grey and midnight-blue,
Your final stillness a god I've always known.
And wear your ribcage like a splintered throne,
I dream of us in sweet, decaying weather.
Your final stillness a god I've always known,
I want to plant us in a grave together.
—V.
(Your velvet shroud)
(Your mycelium)
(Your final bloom)
(Your velvet shroud)
(Your mycelium)
(Your final bloom)
✦ ❦ ✦
They say death parts us.
But I say we will make a garden there,
where our bones become the same dirt,
where there is no you or I,
only us,
blooming.
But I say we will make a garden there,
where our bones become the same dirt,
where there is no you or I,
only us,
blooming.