When I was the mud heart,
I swam thumb and pointer moon rotations.
Universe wonders held within palm of hand,
Mother bore two children of earthen clay.
Her thumb and pointer rotated moons,
cupped my tissue, baked in her fruitful kiln.
Mother bore two children of red clay,
terracotta twins of heaven and earth.
Cupped tissue once baked in her kiln,
Mother forced to bury one daughter in soil.
Terracotta twin of earth, a defective urn,
she smoothed slurry to join my cracks.
Mother buried one daughter in stagnant soil,
forgetting universe wonders held within her palm.
She still smoothed slurry to join my cracks,
when I was the mud heart.
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