Earthly delicious

What did they know of this place
before its gate swung open?

A name?
Whispers of rumor? —
and yet,
they choose it.

Seed clouds uplifting
to the sun,
just so —
vision flames
and fades —
the insidious persistence,
the peril of the eye.

We never can escape it.

We must teach it
the daily incarnation.

Today, I walked in,
spider in my hair,
heat and dirt,
sweet and salty skin,
mud on my cheek,
ground into knuckles.

And he found a way to see that.

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About Emily

I may or may not have: A. Dirt B. Ink C. Paint D. Wool under my fingernails.

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