Beneath the quiet architecture
of bone and breath
something dormant
began its slow insistence
Not a rupture
more like a murmur
moving through marrow
A filament of green
threading itself
through the sediment
of old selves
Petals rehearsing
inside the dark
Roots learning the language
of my fractures
I cupped the tender center
of it all
this small
incandescent heart
half afraid
the light might unmake it
But the body remembers
what the world forgets
And even buried things
practice arrival
And so here
I remain
Unfinished
Unfolding
A quiet germination
becoming
its own horizon
