By Logan Keth

It happened last night,

Before mascara vines

Crept down pale cheeks,

Before a box of Girl Scout cookies

Was binged to crumbs,

Before a text barely finished

Because my hands shook

With the violence of branches

In a hurricane.

 The remnants of us

Fell to litter the callous earth

Only to decay into fertility,

Ready to birth something new

Innocent as the spring fawn

Stuck in the throat of Ouroboros

All because layers of overgrowth

Have ensued my purity

In an impenetrable cocoon.

 I can only pray, down on my knees,

Prey from atop barstools,

Play with feelings of my own

And with the feelings of others

To soothe the traumas

Of infidelity,

The traumas of adultery,

Abandonment, and being forgotten.

 I play and I prey and I pray

That one day

Maybe this day or the next day

The light and warmth

Of the sun in the summer

Will find what I lost

Deep beneath the undergrowth,

Blossoming something

That someday