Living with the Wound
If your voice breaks, I’ll be a cup. If your heart sweats, I’ll be a pillow on which you’ll chance to dream that weeping is singing through an instrument
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If your voice breaks, I’ll be a cup. If your heart sweats, I’ll be a pillow on which you’ll chance to dream that weeping is singing through an instrument
In the lonely canyon of night, the owl makes such a human cry. Who knows what it grieves. Like seeing a stranger break down in the street as
Everything in nature erodes gracefully. The tree leans and cracks. The mountain rounds for decades in the wind. The banks of the river bow to where the
I dreamt that you gave me a gem hidden in your heart. When I woke, I felt your love move through me the way sun parts a cloud. I have looked for
Like a meteor hurtling toward the Earth, each of us hurtles through the years being worn of all that doesn’t matter. Like a meteor that shines brighter