Ruins
All I know is
Approximate
Close
Around
not Quite
a mistaken birth
a curse
to the polished promises
of ease.
Folded
in my own ruins
I grow -upside down-
Roots
Blue edera
to the point where
an other Order
caresses my leaves and
praises
this unchosen verticality
In fact, sometimes a concession:
and Ignorance
becomes
weightless
for the ruins dwellers








