HomeUncategorizedthe shovel

You have twiddled your fingers long enough.
Waiting for someone to recognize
what you refuse to see in your mirror.

It is time for the dig.
It is time to mark your self into sections.
It is time to discover what sleeps
under the skin of you.

Put on your gloves.
Pick up the shovel
and thrust it into your heart.

You do not know what you might find there.
There might be a lost city.
Homes with frescoes.
Secret languages.

There might be
Fine ceramics. Weapons. Spoons.

There might be wooden boxes
filled with letters
paper that yearns to be dust
but the writer determined that your eyes will fall
after all this time,
on the ache of her experience.

There might be jewels
and your spit will make them
catch the light again.

There might be nothing
but dirt.


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