Poem Two. Same Reason As Poem One.

Dirt

There is a sky painted inside my head,

I see it when I look there.

On the ground, earthworm tracks,

dirt smells like death and life and guts and rocks.

The world, I feel its curve

under me, and its gentle massive spin.

I am not carrying it anymore,

or at least it is so much lighter.

You are looking, I count the seconds it takes

you to move around the places I imagine you searching.

Not sorry enough to call my name.

Desperate enough to start the hunt.

Just because I am not home does not mean I am lost.

I am never lost.

I am here

Infinitely.

I am the earth under the earthworm tracks.

I am the absence of air just above the atmosphere.

The sky in my face is one color.

It sinks me into the ground, the world. Rocks and guts.

All I am,

rocks and guts.

Matter is never destroyed. It is.

I am only lost if I never was. So Still I am.

Whole and breathing, dirt.

Dirt before it is dirt. I am not lost.