Lent — day eleven

Beauty and ache
fill and feel the same
when the world is taken
in with great gulps,
and the more you swallow,
the less you comprehend.
Joy tastes salty, like tears,
like blood, like popcorn.
Sky yawns blue like mountains,
like long hugs, like stillness.
Sometimes silent dreams speak
most profoundly, and the masses
shout nothing, with all that they are.
Wind is wide like the stories
that burrow deep in your bones,
and whisper to you in the night.
Fire consumes – it gives
and takes, ravages, restores.
The ocean won’t ever stop its
crashing, colliding, yet, its peace
surpasses understanding.
Tears choke most days,
and when they don’t, I miss them –
they choke for beauty, choke for ache,
fill and feel the same.


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