They say the earth’s waters are connected in a cardiac energy
Cleansing our fates, those emerald lakes, dusk’s crimson mists
One and the same.
The same I say,
This moon pocked landscape
Tilt beneath cracked diodes.
The clear portolas wisely spread
Along the silent meadows of your hands
And in a press for sentiment to overwhelm skin
A hint of dye will bleed through, below the maps
Your veins scrawl, a hint of dye has come in.
So know that,
Forever, I will stare into the smallest thing,
Add color to the smallest thing,
And taste blood in every ink.