we are separable
an extension of a phantom limb
painful and parted
two of one
we echo
circle talk
talk circles
around each other
we nurtured but
we murdered
buried under sand
a dry wake for
a sister-child
that is ours but not mine
we eschew Divine
but look where we are
Not Home


Penned by my hand on the 22nd of Miraman, in the year 923 AF.