My toenails churned the dirt, searching for Earth’s weak spots: / places to root.

Would tell you how I, fourteen, dreamt of these exact hands / In the latent underside of a wave.

learning through hunger is still desire

Like any woman, / I am swirl and sharp angled

He laid his body / at my feet and covered himself / with dirt.

In the hills the fire-frightened wildlife /
are drawn to the scent of what has burned