Tasting the starched fullness of expectation
I die poisoned by the truth of being
always less than
always not enough
always me.
Poised
Author: lteston
Cold Melancholy
The tips of fingers and toes stiff with cold
trap the moment
as I remain attached to wanting thoughts
in loneliness waiting
for the warm of spring
The Rape
Attached to this moment by a thin string pulled
by a memory my body won’t cut loose.
An uncoordinated swallow and choking breath
released the head from my heart.
Alone
At risk
Trust dissolved in rhythms that would otherwise heal.
The Rape
Attached to this moment by a thin string pulled
by a memory my body won’t cut loose.
An uncoordinated swallow and choking breath
released the head from my heart.
Alone
At risk
Trust dissolved in rhythms that would otherwise heal.
Brew
- Photo by Chamod Kushan on Pexels.com
Morning tea preferred
warm, gentle
Coffee every morning
powered
by enthusiasm to blend a version
of his perfection.
Trini & Mini
Everyday
Every day breathes hope from forgotten dreams
taking for granted expected miracles of awareness.
But out the door then,
without coat or cover
on to a human paced journey of doing and stuff-
an accustomed living with exposed intentions
and brokenness, storms and tantrums,
only then to circle back where a closed door shields the heart
in prayerful submission to the chill of that day’s failed ending.
