return
it is as if there is flint
or a small piece of basalt
worrying inside my shoe
chiselled and unrepentant
as i walk towards you
the ground softens, gives up
a whole armoury
skirting surrender
we ravel threads
murmur petroglyphs
this path leads nowhere
but forgiveness
we navigate aisles
hiding and seeking
world receding
bodies moving in harmony
later, underneath leaves
and crescent moon
we speak
between feels just a micron thick
i think of bluebell days
traipsing through bracken
humming wordlessly
wood's gentle melody
weight and lightness
warmth and cold
loam underneath us
pleiades above us
your chin nestles
like robin's egg
balancing in branches cleft
i see now you never left
how tender and perilous.