The labyrinth of grief

i thought my body was big enough to hold the grief

but it fissured over time

and i scurried to patch the wounds

with saps and resins and shreds of old cloth

while other parts of me

hardened like bark

and as the cracks grew deeper

my body began to change

more like soil

than flesh

everything poured from me

into the streams and creeks

through weathered rock

slipping beneath the surface

slithering through blackness

in this chthonic labyrinth

i took my first breath

as someone who understood

the consequences of love

and when I rose

now rooted, soft, porous

longing

to face the scalding heat of the world

there were moist patches of moss

growing where the wounds once were

reminding me

that we cannot hold it alone

The labyrinth of grief - Pisolithus ink on watercolor paper