THE EARTH IS A RELIQUARY
THE EARTH IS A RELIQUARY
Her growth brings us to this forest; the forest I stand in. It’s as though a window’s picture could
not capture her elements.
She spills over our graves, swallowing our bones in plants. The streets are taken over with the
brush of her hand.
She plays with airplanes, pushing against the machines.
She visits me often.
Ribbons ripple through the air, a festival of mourning the living <things>.
My death was beautiful. The struggle to breathe mangled in a deep scarlet world.
I had a weak heart overwhelmed by beautiful things. And the horrid <things> tore me apart.
I ran through the highway now filled with itchy grass. My toes sank into the dirt as I wiggled them.
She was giggling at my expense. My mouth watered the mud; I was now in waist deep.
<ground> I would not struggle.
She lifted me as a child who was inconsolable to the whispers of the whirling sea.
I still cried though. She had buried me just to come and pick me back up as though time had
gotten to her, making an unstable fixation on her negligence.
Who am I to judge her nature?
I had joined society in the overthrow. I had polluted her love and rebelled against my own
mother.
Who am I?
Taylor Noe is a current student at Bowling Green State University as a Bachelor of Fine Arts major in Creative Writing. Her passion for writing began with self-publishing her early collections of poetry in two books showcasing her growth as a creative writer from 2022-2023. Since then, Taylor has been working on fine tuning her creative methods and studying in a more professional setting. If you would like to see more of Taylor and her work, follow her on Instagram at tay.writes_07.