We carry our devotion parting silence
Like a sea from the air into our lungs
Aim to be outspoken, awaiting gusts of wind
Strong enough to shake the words from our tongues

We are not known for easing tension
We'd rather tilt our heads and swallow teeth
Shelter me from dreams in which you die
I'd rather witness my own death
Eyelids open like I never needed rest
I hope I choke from no practice speaking my own sentences
Moving forward from my former self
I haven't missed me yet

We are not known for our forgiveness
only the acts that we forgive

I would much prefer our fate
resting in the palms of open hands
rather than confined in a clenched fist

We carry our devotion with our guilt like thorn
and stem resembling an orchid recently resurrected
We have lived and died both in earth and by your bedside
Preserved in soil, we confide in connection

We are not known for our forgiveness…
letting go so we may live

Shelter me from dreams in which you die
I'd rather witness my own death
We are not known for our forgiveness
but regardless, we forgive