Specter in the Curved

i feel stillness in plum lips coated
with vinegar cider whiskey, the bitter softens

candid lines below the surface: with a kiss of elixir,
a half-slurred crescent, i shift in expansion before fated

retraction, a metamorphic balance, my words peeled and zested,
the rosy orb twiddles in a vacant lull of questions: did i dig up

these roots too soon, did i bury your presence in earth, will i see you again
above the raven rocks, suspended in your perpetual search, will i be

severed from your light, the glow you sprinkled along
our make-shift path, stones placed in succession mid-

venture in our woods, and could i discern my child’s
specter in the curved reservation, will i lose you

with your body, did i feel your essence
shake beneath the earth?