Pseudopsychosis.

every crevice
tracing white
of the lonely earth;
rock and bone
entwine 

in the eyes of 
acanthine leaves
all starved in newborn 
waves; losing or death

if we never 
fall nor dream
and we sit 
on branch’s bone,

and dream’s death,
it gives us an offbeat sparrow
while we, mourning our oceans,
see the mind
that makes 
the root of madness
or rock,

we could never
fall together.

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Written for today’s prompt at the Go Dog Go Cafe: Write a poem using the phrase “if we never.”

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