Dust

Dust

I wander a world woven from dust

Where time passes to the beating of bone on skin

The bruised sky roils underfoot

As Helios looks down from his golden chariot

And then there is you

Sitting amongst the layers of scales you have shed

Raw skinned and weeping lightening

The sound of your sobs falls as red beads of wisdom

Blooming in the air between us

Sara Parker-Fuller