hold (v/n).

There is a place that I come from
- you were born there too -
deep in the earth and from roots
we were made
in the same place. 

More than the dust and sand
more than the bright sun
on this wide desert (where we call home)
we are made
of the same things. 

In the moments when
I lose my sight
in the moments when
I forget cities and roads
in the moments when
I misplace stories of my childhood
in the moments when
the world seems hurried and loud
I will return to the place
of our beginning - 

I will remember
how to love you
I will remember
the vows we whisper
in half-light, in half-sleep
I will remember
that I am yours too keep
(because
what is ours
to keep
except
what is fused
in our cells?)

I will remember you
because you are in me
we were made
in the same place
we are made
of the same things. 

[This post was commissioned by Erin for Ryan, with her donation going to support my friend Daphne's recovery from cancer. For more information go to welovedaphne.blogspot.ca