Creation Myth - Uncle Sinner

Say you grew here

Your mother a restless gust

Rising and falling in tangles of bare branches

Say your first word was «light»

And your father tried to make you a paper God

All blonde hair and

Endless ignition

Say the words behind you beat back a ragged silence

Winding paths into the shattered heart of the world

Say the horizon curves and bends people back

Here

Beside you

Waiting for a sign to begin