god disolves
in paper apples
as eden erupts again
from the impossible
siren song
of loss
we are left
with a memory of the future
a primordial knowledge
that splits everything in two
Halving was the first form of control
Then it was having
We set ourselves apart
And then we set ourselves a part
It wasn’t until
Everything was carved into parts
That humanity saw its true face
In fragments
Divide everything in the world
Then reflect back on yourself
And crack into pieces
Our mother shares the grief of life
We take her pain and make it ours
And our pain becomes hers
And we separate ourselves from the pain
And we separate ourselves from our mother
Dividing a blind gift into the dust of ashes
The god that did this to us was called Death
And the tribes of rage say,
“If we didn’t do it, they would.”
And we’re left with embers
Born of the dry breath
And the blinding light
Of mutual fear
Life does not fit
On the other side
Of a coin.
Life has no other.
Life becomes.
Death is derivative.
And the dust of ashes
Gives birth to us.
To be alive is to say:
What will I create?