[they’re in their lord of the flies bag]

Terence talks about the boys taking refuge
at the mouth of the waterfall

one boy's eyes opened to the sky, his legs
wrapped around the stone to hold it

alive, afloat, the river flows
him, kissing him just like that, his body

break in the water, tide
and the roar of his call, divided by the fall

separating him from himself. other boys
sat around him like water nymphs

looking beyond the mountains,
where the sun sets. the boys landed like that

they become part of the earth, the roots take root
around the ankles. yes, in their master's fly

bag, but formerly lord of the flies
It's getting dark. before they do what they do

piggy bank, before the split and the hunt. wild,
still. boys who jump from such heights

like trees swayed into the water
so with love from rock, boys who forded

river in socks, throwing shoes
to any soft ground willing to catch. water,

mother: both heals and scolds, both are soft
and gains pressure as it falls. small

deep enough to go, deep enough to dive, boys
know her where to step

and where not to, how to say hello, when
to let her sleep. their big toes get scratched

into the moss, curling them to secure the nails
find a hook between the roots to secure, pull out

their bodies up. Koki sing their song.
the sun winks at the sunset. everything is green; Nothing

poisoned Alhamdulillah, know the land
so you can play with this. never doubt

where your foot lands, how to get your body
where it wants to go. be so from, you from.

Alhamdulilah, hold back the fall and not fall.
hear the sound of the river and feel safe. wild.

boys. in his lord of the flies bag. Yes,
the boys are there at the top of the waterfall. pulls

crumbs of leaves from each other's hair. boys:
wild but not lost. boys, wild and owned.