1180

I curl
I curl
I curl it in my hand
loose until it’s gone

the valley
under my fingernails
all white
and pink

the valley
a bottle of pink
and white
gone

I said
no one
kicking up dirt
a rain
while I collapse
through
pass our valley
blue
blue

I hold
weak grip
no that’s
infancy

and a stirring
says all
I ever could