Pseudopsychosis.

I expect you like fragments 
entirety of your being; autumn spurred
and trees mocking (me; I have nothing to abandon
but myself and a few friends);
The flowers were your ashes
and blood. I expect you to rearrange 
the death
you put in the car
the town-car 
no not mine, your own
I expect you to hide it

into maddening prayers
crawling through the bird’s tongue
the blight of roses in my fingers
a sobbing pillow to dust, impressed
by rain

I expect you in wormwood
I expect the sand to store the death
in your arms; the wild, the shepherds,
you have brought me here
too often to forget; the moon flowered herself
a fathered backbone with our blood-roses,

the earth did not raise you

I expect you to have abandoned
each memory circling 
	fragile as the rain is above you.

the earth did not raise you.

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Written for the 7/15/2021 dVerse prompt which concludes the 10th year anniversary week for dVerse. The prompt was to write a chant poem.