Let Me Be Moss

Dear earth, let me be moss in your woods. 

Let me be a life that encroaches in 

your dark

and trace your skin with no roots that you gave me.

True apothecary, let us share this poison.

A footprint doesn’t lift but it sinks

and our breaths go where our bones go.

What if I become your marrow 

if you cannot remember why you want to forgive me?

And if I don’t want you to,

please,

let me be a moss that walks to decorate 

my graveyard, and make sure you let me go first. 

For you cannot be gone before I find north

and fall off the opposite edge.