until.

you left in a wave of soil
scattering doubt & salt
beneath the roots on my Gethsemane
turning the green to gray
the action of
pushing stalks against the
surface of ground
drains my fingertips of warmth

feverishly i strive
for indifference
but will you ever call again?

spiders & inquiries
scamper up & down my spine
& creep over my shoulders
sinewy legs brush my cheek & my
mouth then traces the shape of
your name in the dry, dry air

a saline taste haunts my teeth
& stray curls are still nestled
between my floorboards
hiding from my temporary distain

like an April bird to a
familiar nest-Home
i will return to you
bearing the fruits of my forgiveness
in exchange only for a new found
honesty
which will this time
lower itself
gently
against my ears