in this dust

 in this dust…

i write a name, another…

scribbling deep grooves into

dirt  with wrongs,

with reasons not to throw

the stones—

so why are you still holding those rocks?

in this dust…

i smoothed your face,

sculpted eyes and fingers

filled your nose

to the brim with breath.

this clay, this mud, this earth–

don’t you remember

you came from this?

in this dust…

lay down your stones

drop them one by one

till your hands are empty

and you are free.

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