Seeds

Creation

It was raining seeds
Clouds spit them out like shells
The sun bakes the soil to hell and
Little demons sprout out of the black ground
Rain blossomed them into souls
Eternally damned for crimes they didnt commit
The trees loom over us, ashamed and envious
The shade they birth is a natural obligation
For they have to face the wrath of the sun
We dig ourselves out of the ground just to get a glimpse of the stars
Projecting our vision as far as the darkness will allow
Pain forms in our eyes as pupils contract to their limit
The moon breathes on us and stirs the sleeping ocean
Surging like the juice under our skin
Spitting out salt and corral and Atlantic excrement
Her fins flap to no avail. The water has gone.
Her skin is dry and her gills are stitched
She is the child of the ocean, birthing her children from the sun
Sprouting limbs and blossoming hair
Her scent is fresh and moist, laced with salt
There is a seahorse in her hand.
Her skin is a costume, hiding her roots, her past
Her past has been consumed by the present and
Can only be rewrtten by forgetting the future
The moon dissapeared and the sun opened its eye
Both of us nourished in its heat,
Indulging into eachother
The shade was miles away
The sand in our hair
When we finished there were millions of us
Indulging into eachother like seahorses