Renewable Sacrament

The prime my digit fractured still can flourish,

Knitting with other numbers to produce a pearl

Rotund, serene, for memory to polish.

My dandelion loves their ticking seeds unfurl

That tell our time and parachute to grass,

Interlopers in a green virgin soil.

Singly we dream, and wake in mutual jars

Of jolting buffers as the cars are shunted,

Communicating down a corridor of fears

A sacrament that pain has counterpointed

Bleeds in the mouth; we palate no other nurse

Than nipples by trial and suffering anointed,

And in the harsh baptismal brine immerse

Hands, feet and head. One flesh brought joyful home

By birth in dual death, we clean reverse

The ungodly sentence that smote Eve's womb.