Undergrowth
In a garden of stone hurtwords grow
Only they can thrive on salt
Their linescape threads our heart
In a sacred vessel bloodflowers grow
Only they can bloom in the dark
Their rootscape weaves our breath
Next: Poetry
In a garden of stone hurtwords grow
Only they can thrive on salt
Their linescape threads our heart
In a sacred vessel bloodflowers grow
Only they can bloom in the dark
Their rootscape weaves our breath
Next: Poetry