Are piles of ashes forming?

Are piles of ashes forming?

Allow me just one part
Of your heart or your hand
Weathered by mother nature and partners before me
I haven’t forgotten them,
I long to be secured
To be encouraged out of this atrophy
Where I’ve dwelt on
The shooting star you promised by
In the moment you held me
In the moment you protected me
I protected you
From Past’s pain,
From Truth’s deceit.
We rooted each other in reality’s soil.
What was honest had lied, we both knew.
You sorted my thoughts
Stimulated my need to confide
And turn away from
Ill-fitting requests of doom.
The dramatics that you caused,
And the world,
Bound me;
Yet you freed my arms, chest and bodice that November
Held them
Caressed them
Let me feel your heartbeat on my ear
Whispered secrets of your birth in the other
Gave me your youth, mine
Gave me the night sky
On a platter made from our wood’s bark and leaves.
The dirt softened about us as you did,
Beneath our blanket.
My roots
Must have been slipping with it.
Did yours? They mustn’t have.
Allow me, today,
More than a floating planter in my blood
To remember our forest of promises
Before it gets burned down.
Before we’re left scooping roots’ ashes.