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The hole I dug in you I still mean to fill 
with love, if love can replace what’s 
robbed. If grubbed earth 
can be broadcast with enough 
pips to tree the field. I will open 
my hands to this work if 
I can, the cavity I am to the maggots 
I've sown. Hollow logs I’ve heard 
invite a hive. This is how 
you taught me seasons move. In 
reparation. Without asking. Without 
complaint. Without knowing if 
forgiveness will come, the only way it will.

1 thought on “luff

  1. Whew! Love this ruthless love poem, and especially “the cavity I am to the maggots / I’ve sown” <3

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