The Natural Earth Will Be Salted by e.a. toles
bodies at this age have rotted ripe
with heavy trauma
sinking fast as Wormwood
children will grow up nursed
naturally, sweetness can and will
be absurdly abused.
none of last week’s
any sense of becoming, that bang
of light meant to blind us wise.
someone meant to learn the Art
how to wring meaning from divorce,
from misinformed motions-
how to buttress graves of heartstones,
to whittle the blood diamond
down to rose dust wine.
perhaps the creek or the stream
or the river will remind us
of where it is that we have been,
where it is we will forget
love is the easiest failure to misremember,
that is what i am told,
my arthritic mind grasping.
so why is it that i am still
watching you cradle my breath?
©2018 e.a. toles
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e.a. toles is an author living in Los Angeles. He has published poems with Figroot Press and is currently writing news articles for the Non-Plus Ultra.