core of grief

i have lost a loved one

with no place to put

the grief between my lungs

and the gnashing of my teeth

has only left room for rivers of salt.

home is a circle

with no ends to reach

with no curative speech

with no place for resurrection

a faint line of green with no beat

and every bone submitting to rigor.

i ask the ground below

roll out like a scroll

so that tears become ink

and lays to rest whatever is left of pain

sealing it at earth's core.

then i will walk

crushing head with heel

burying it so far below.