Similar Posts
Ghazal: Calcified Naïveté
Living inside the braided folds just for today.Tangled roots whisper; I can’t hear what they say. Memories are a splinter in the eye.Promises broken become calcified naïveté. Black Swan, slippery like Mercury—haunting.(A life lived well is not a parley.) Water ceasing to hydrate what is crumbling.Silt becomes an urn for ashes someday. Days are shorter…
soft places
today, as we played she said, “I didn’t know your ribs were ticklish.” i thought of how i know where you like to be kissed and stroked but i didn’t know all your soft places and you didn’t know mine (hurt happened) as i started crying, she said, “maybe this isn’t a good time for…
tools instead of weapons [heart + mind = grace]
I have a strong mind. I used to use it as a weapon. It cut, it slashed, it burned, it hurt. Then one day, I discovered where my true power lives (in my heart), and now I use my mind as a tool. Sometimes this tool destroys (mindfully) but often this tool builds and creates…