soft red dust seeps into my pores...
an almost osmosis of the heart.
my skin is bathed again in amniotic sweat
as dry heat swirls about my ankles, sweeps into my chest.
i know i’m here because
i smell it.
This earth...after rain...
i re-cognize the three-dimensionality of chipped stone, layered earth, smooth bark, clouds.
my lashes filter harsh light born in the centre of the sun.
daring me to deny that i forget:
i too was born of the earth.