only to learn about you

[mishtachio]

Imprint yourself upon me.

So deeply that even when the earth reclaims her son,
even when loam covers my fingers 
and the worms begin threading through my toes,
you are remembered.

Let the archaeologists come, 
with all their curiosity and tools to sift through my bones. 
There —beneath the wreckage of time— they will find your warmth, 
still burning in the marrow.

Let them press onto my shell,
and feel the aftershock—
the tremor of your hands still holding on.

Let my ribs arch out like olive branches,
their twisted wood still singing your song;
and each of my vertebrae still bearing the shadow of your lips.

Prints that even time,
with all its great erasers—
its winds and waters and centuries—
couldn’t quite ever undo.

Let them find me,
only to to learn about you.