13 Draft for Frogivness

plowing my homeland for frutual harvest

now is not the time for me to grant forgivness


colors falling, falling wide of my walls plastered memories

spider feet marching about strands of time and i find myself drowning in apologies

lemon juice is resting beneath my ankles and i lick to grasp hold on oblivion


skinned are my words, on their own feared of entering the space built

now and ever watering the plants in your garden, so carefully planted

my willows roots growing inside your sliced torso, feeding from woven flesh

leaves i pick, braiding into wallflowers astound by the fleeting green


aspoiration for love sahred between you and me

for all the words never thought i hold your womb


Copyright © 2012 by Franziska Dirnberger


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