Salted by David Seth Smith

it’s raining a bit
and tiny things

are held like disbelief
in suspension

what doesn’t belong
evaporates

the rest filtered
through sheets

you can set your memoirs by
the thread count divided by the weight

of salted earth clasped
between fibers because

what happens
stays

liturgical desiccation
holy relics

of sweat decanted
like sacramental wine

this was your body
this was my blood

© David S Smith 2016

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