Poetry Time: Seat of Memory

No longer can the sludge of old emotions bury me
I choked on mud for so long I forgot the taste of air
In a cavernous place, your hand slipped from mine

The dirt covered you, the floods rained over you
My interior never forgot you as you lingered
Temporarily apart but always a part of me

A brilliant spark took hold that night
The dirt was turning to flowers on the eve
of her birthday, when the air

smelled of roses, beauty turning outward,
and I uncovered you again, and I realized
you had never not been mine.