The taste of bluestone outlasts youth
I tried to fold the rain for you
My elemental hands unwieldly
As the sun reached through an eclipse
Two primaries lacking the fire amalgam
Yet more bright is the gloving of hope
The perfection in a halved orange
Its colour joining day and night
An orb of flesh the texture of which
Holds close the generational seeds
Spilled and launched of an earth
Where all rise and plummet in dream and wake
To a granular truth beyond any flavour
Each of us departing the kernel to ascend
