Bindi Bur Blog


How can I give you this rock?
When it was given to me in my dreaming
the voice said, “This is a body.”

Stroke it.
Stroke it smooth like skin.
Stroke it like urgency.

It bears its history on its face,
its long time tumbling from the mountains
stroked by water, stroked by stone.

Time is a salt grain
and I remember exactly
what we were when we were earth,

when we were what the earth demands,
tumbling from the mountains,
stroked by water, stroked by stone.

This is a body and this is me.
I give you the stone-ness of it, weighty,
with its history on its face.

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