My hope scatters like sawdust from the blade. Walk backwards, collect every grain of sand. This is for your soul, when the levee finally broke. It broke out of spite for your flesh stopping up the fractures. For your backbends with bricks heavy in your chest. Your sleepy-eyed smile wars. For your too hard closed fists. And your open temper. Your guardrails, finger-tipping the scales. For your full heart and your empty mouth. For your love, when it isn't there.