As weathered skins grow paper thin

the weight foreshadowed

could only be for night

To hide shocked currents of contrition

Flowing from eyes drowned

By deep wells bent into bones

The sea waves salted command:

lay loss, within the land

And so the story

Of rocks stilled by souls

Grow to become faces

Forming wind whispers

By those, stranded

From a birthright to love

Too many attempt to feign

Or resign to living without

Opening up to knowing

The land offers her arms

When cold, or hard hands

Remain absent

In the violence of man

Without end to the depths

of conceit or contempt

The land

Offers a place

To break free a space again

To face the heavens and see

Our bodies remain floating

Dropped arms upon land or sea

Allows the heart to be.

* Mari Amman, 2022

Le Lapin is a donation based subscription. Sharing this post is free. Merci.

Get full access to Le Lapin at lelapin.substack.com/subscribe