I don’t really understand poetry, no Unless there’s entirety, circularity, and illumination An off beat Unless I can hear the voice, Unless there’s some sweetness to which I can attribute a human spirit Unless there’s cradled attention, consistent and voluntary unless I can feel the softness
When life demands reality, we surrender to a fairy tale others long to live. To soak up kisses along with bills, and memories with chores, to stop and stare and breathe. To inhale a moment with saturated make-believe. Droplets of stardust and snowflakes imprinting on a soul for life.
“Help,” I thought, looking around to others, “I need a tourniquet. Can’t you see my friend is dying?” But as I search the familiar faces around me, I realize they are all bleeding out in their grief. There isn’t enough triage in the world to save you from this pain.