I took my basket to the woods and brought her home—
all lost with the negligence of time.
the hearts exclamation
that flowers through the thorn of the spine,
but sit first in the hedge among the vine.
Let the twigs poke your face
kiss them, call them grace
listen to the wind, how it calls:
‘Fuck it, use your wings, grow some balls'.
I took my basket to the woods
and brought her home
- akka b.