Solitary Signs

i come from this wall,
but not as graffiti,
with cryptic lettering
that declares the
boundaries of suffrage,
extracted from a child’s
innocence – blood still warm.

i am not a thick
moss, the mold of suffocation come to
seal forever an offensive mortar, a tomb for our
sins under a lush
and deceptive green.

i am born of a seed,
deposited unseen by a
breath that was gentle
as a lover’s sigh, to
draw support through
the decay, a blooming,
simple and susceptible.