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