•pyro Primrose• Poem by Faith Hartshorn Hartshorn

In the threshold of my bones.
Embers paved like cobblestone.
It Simmers Softly in my soul.
Passively Collecting each memory I hold.
With every passing day It withers
In a pyro primrose.

Magma erodes the moat around my Chromosomes.
Open my breast-bone
fore it is for bode.
Gaze into my ironstone.
I give back Sevenfold.

The undertone.
So Comatose
Foreshadow your mind inside my kaleidoscope.
Stand at my tombstone and provoke my growth.

Un-be-Known.
Cryofrozen.
My antidote.