Archeologist Seeking Sphinx
To the moon and back, you say.
But like the moon, you had phases
Gibbous assumed full.
Even a telescope was,
Unable to see you.
Soaking into your world
A balm, I faithfully began.
To replenish you.
Cultivating the land,
Love, a poultice.
Your skin had already adjusted
To expect a certain drought
So when the rain came.
It skittered the surface
Of your broken hearts
Still, I slipped into the
Cracks, swelling inside you
Decrypting, decoding
The hermetic seal only
Preserving the pain.
Your center halo palpable
Through packed soil
I, a careful
Archeologist seeking Sphinx
Bare at last, a crisp carapace.
LLW 4-15-20