I read your poem and believed that you are also the axe and the ice which reaches only for itself and also the heartwood smooth and wet as a whetstone
I had been thinking about pine needles and how like those soft fragrant quills I am And how the axe can only split and give off The scent of sap and the taste of fresh grass
After we stop touching I notice the soft bed of needles and the little drops of blood
smelling so like a split tree that I reach into myself and in my mouth - the taste of metal
AdrianeSeville is a Spanish-American poet living in Texas. He is married with two cats and a dog."