unearth

to feel unloved, to be small and call out from the infinite arising inside, to watch each call go unanswered, to feel unwanted

to pile small mountains of despair inside the tender flute of a throat, stash cannons of dissolving hope along the banks of a spine

to remember, tiny pendulums of desire insistent on being perfectly met draping each bead of
presence in its fresh enchantment

to stuff hollow wanting with desperate bargaining, lather the ache of powerlessness in quiet ruins, deciding we were never worthy of more than tired scraps of our divinity

to hush swollen lungs, hard swallow numbing, to corner in the inheritance of all they had to
give, their overflowing cup of feeling unloved 

to pack parched and cracking heartstrings in icy chests, dig sharpened fingernails in any kindness veering dangerously close to the stores of emptied longing

to be rocked in the strained strength of endurance, steadied in shallow breaths, to watch lost ships of days and decades, watch tides go out, grips go slack on belonging to our lives

to feel unloved and to surrender each careful barricade, one slow grain of mending at a time to place soft hope in the mouth of our prayers, to feel unloved and decide to reach again