I am #2

I am from columbine petal skin and the blizzard-born sun.

I am from blood spun into sugar, from the actor which forgot its lines.

I am from an element which dissolved into its own chemistry. From exhaled secrets and burned glass spoons.

I am from a typo in the book of fate and an echoing scream that turned out to be static.

I am from an old family tree with a brand new, hand-made branch and a heart that chose me before the law did.

I am from the jury box of a one-man court, sculpted from the strikes of a heavy mallet.

I am from a pocket always heavy with crumpled tissues, spare ponytails and warm counsel.

I am from precision in motion, split second trust and not cutting corners.

I am from where a womans spine must be steel, but her smile must be porcelain.

I am from where the shadows outnumber the bodies and a long line of fading echoes.

I am from heavy soil where the anchor almost broke. I am from the silent combustion of a city burning its own walls and where the shadows wore faces and spoke in static.

I am from a brief connection, quickly unplugged. From 21 emails and eternal silence.

I am from a man who did not start the seed, but became the soil. who took the blank line and wrote mine next to my pulse.