Swaying upon roots of regret, Sun-shaded by outstretched invitations; Gnarled digits begging for fruit to ripen My back, damp with whispers, Bakes beneath the umbrage of a past beckoning; Mesmerized by a knot, a knot for my throat Epistles swirl about my feet, Lest I forget my purpose; “Leave, leave, leave this place, to betterContinue reading “Knot ready”