I hold you
dear
Wrap round your
Rough gray
Place my mouth
On your mouth
The gods did not know of
The scab of your soul
Of tenderness tendered
A circle of moon
Its powder a tinder
Liquid and soft
And lain upon the flint
Like a palm that says
Be still
Written with Brendan Bonsack
By Reka Jellema and Brendan Bonsack
July 2014