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.