You were growing on me
Like moss awakening and attaching
Mass awakening and hatching
Divine orchestration of the tectonic plates beckoning
Placing pressures on my body
Leaving a grotesque purple yellow brown dotted bruise
As they cruise over and under my body, the muse
I am caught amongst the energies shifting,
their uncontrolled drifting
please pull me out, away from Gwynn
Let’s see the soil debris left on my skin as
Freckles and birthmarks
Which we can dust off as ashes
To reveal scars of lashes from the crashes
Which tortured me under the patches of ground
Which the truth was found
Of where the masses of mosses cannot conceal
The fact that you were growing on me…