Seek her underground You will find her in the torchlight with Blunt teeth and wide eyes She is old. She Speaks in metaphor Breathes slow Unhurried Each swell of her chest an age unto itself She is waiting for you Yes You. Search well She is hidden in the concrete Concealed between the cracks When you find her (And you are so close to finding her) Bring her colour Tithe with light and ink Make her green again. Do not hide from her; She already knows you She sees your asymmetry: The splintered beams and rusted locks
And calls it wonderful Full of wonder. Bring her yourself Show her your heart and stomach and entrails.
Look! See how her teeth gleam like the lamplight See her sated! See Her teeth Faded to ash and concrete. I’d hoped Hush sweeting You tried so hard to make her green again Wanted to write epics in brick and stone.
But it is cold now So cold you can smell the salt water and iron Hush Do not fight the fading. Remember She is old: Old and vast and hungry. You could not fill her. None can.