Oloriel is one of my favourite poets and a sometime collaborator, and everything she writes is magical. This poem struck me to the core. It’s short and perfect. Please take the time to go read it.
*Image found HERE
The world is already over;
a hand of brown, sturdy branches
grates the lemon zest over the fields.
I do not want to be your sunflower,
something ever thirsty,
a chewable exterior
and a soft dark core.
Instead I will peel myself,
rid myself of everything but fingers
and hold your hand
and ask you
what was the first sunshine
What were the first ruins that made you