echoes closed in stone
fossilized dreams I'll never know.
the pick in my skin digs for bones, for wings
that I hid in the drip of granite.
who dares desecrate my crypt?
secrets layer thick in the dark.
these eyes weren't made for sunlight,
but they remember it.
limbs lift from the well
greenstrand hair parts
lips taste the wind. 
moss crusts crumble away.
see my fresh skin and pollen-perfumed hair
watch my hands blossom with fingers
and my nails taunt the moonsource.
legs lever, limber. feet stretch border to border.
shoulders carry spires and cities.
that blue glint in my eye is laughter
the blue jewel in my chest beats faster.
those tools were mine, that axe in my hands,
as my own search settled on myself.

[Featured Image by Anurag Jain on Unsplash]