Tags
alone, ee, life, love, moments, poem, rambling, seeing in the dark, separate, sometimes, sweet warmth, trust, truth, words
comfort settles
at the edge of the floor
just below the joint
where the wall would meet
it’s enough to make you crazy
suffocation (I’ve heard it called)
a fog spreading (honey)
to every splintered board
every missing nail
touching – loving
warming intoxication
sweeter comfort
could not be – than this
erasing every past
every damaged heart
every far away
you dreamed of
trading places with worlds
you might have died for
(did you not)
til all you know (is this)
nothing more could be recalled
not even the moment
it happened
(a mist beyond the glass)
ready to run
you turned into the light
as easy then
(o it isn’t anymore)
now you wait
unable to move beyond
hurts you gave into
(inviting)
fog still burns you breathing
ache that knows your name
clings to every piece
of you remembered
. . .
Life is art, each board and batten adding meaning to a home, each splinter, a memory to the hand
……there are eternities custom fit to spread across a single moment……tribes that traverse the lines of our hands…… The trick is to close out the roar, slow down, breathe in and allow……. Thank you, Peter.