Memory pieces of me caught in the updraft of
conversation and dispersed skyward. At once
seen then absorbed. Filtered moments as
torn exposed wounds. Yesterday’s
alive in today where dark is bleached dry.
Water flows gently now-
well after the storm and the dam’s ruin.
“I was so stupid.” My pride a body
Soul guard protecting yet
shielding me from life fully lived,
closing our chamber of possibility. My
worst news from you, “I’m a free
woman now” then repelled and rejected
bridges a new bond.
- 1,986 hits
- “Genuine poetry can communicate before it is understood.” TS Eliot
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