I have my words
my talismans
my shamans
but before you
out of space
out of time
I lay down
your smooth bark
the curve of your words
as you lie
sacred in time
I caress your skin
we speak in air
in blue leaves hissing
beneath us your tendrils
weave a trace in time
so old so old
I am young within you
as tiny as a notch
in your gravid bark
and I hear you
patient as I speak
your name
Manniferous manifest magnetic
you have your own alphabet
a syntax of old Gods
I will learn you
curator of memory
consecration of time
studded with stars
stay with me.
© Kate McNamara, 2020
