Some strange hunger
atop a less strange hunger.

some strange grief
atop a less strange anger.

some strange hand
atop a less strange hand.

something shallow and cloying
atop something ever so steep.

roots of something asleep
waking up from the deep.

i’m letting her out.
i’m setting her free.

it isn’t quite her and it isn’t quite me.

how long she’s waited
simply
just
to
be.