Carbon Fingertips

There is soot on my fingertips and carbon in my lungs.

I cannot taste the dreams on my breath

Because I've lost

The ability to breathe.

I have forgotten how to exist in the silence.

.

The animal nature in my soul craves the stillness

And I feed it activity, unnatural and loud.

Too bright, too direct, too full.

So I wither in the sunlight because I've forgotten

How to absorb blazing starlight.

.

The moon burns my skin and the river water

Poisons the part of me it should nourish.

I've lost touch with the soil underfoot,

Trading it instead for the guilt of carbon.

So I will let it kill me then, devour my bones,

And spit out the reincarnated soul of myself

That loves the soil and the river and the stars

And that has forgotten all about the soot on my fingertips.