We were grateful for gold particles, the waves, any
Zygote worth its weight in salt. We bent down to be
Capacitated, we bent down to take this crown. We
Were grateful for the parting membrane. We were
Grateful the crown was not a noose. We were grateful
That all those years ago we slipped down and out. We
Turned our brains into a fosse. We were grateful for
Forebearers, who carried the flow of blood, the thoughts,
For all our others, our ephemeral experiences, wounds
Dressed, our gold husks, our faults, bacteria, and our
Very last eased breath.
G. E. Schwartz, the author of Only Others Are (Legible Press), World (Furniture Press), Thinking In Tongues (Hank’s Loose Gravel Press), Murmurations (Foothills Press), and the forthcoming The Very Light We Reach For (Legible Press), live and writes from Upstate, New York, USA ( Wenrohronon lands).
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