Life in-between

Like a stone, solid
By the brim of the sea
If there is more to it?
Only waves beat me.

Fragment, segment, ligament
Meet bone, rock, meat.
I was an excavated sphere
Conquered, emptied, forgotten.

Now I lay bare and
only the sun licks me whilst
dried grass pricks my skin and
I remember that face smeared

with marmalade and smiles
but my blood
will not
make rivers here
this is not
my final resting place.

I just want to memorise the skies
sculpt the clouds on my skull
their complex pattern of catacombs
the way a swallow flies.

It makes no sense to wonder
so I lie still and pray
not to close my eye, encircled
by fossils wanderings and a gliding vulture.

The spread of my wings, their weight on the ground
my ear to the earth and the ticking of time.
If anything can be known
it is out of the mind.

Porous, dissolving
I am at home
but will be going back.

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