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His poverty of love betrayed every effort
and he settled for survival-
afraid even of comfort
a man alone in a mind framed by fear.
His death came as could be expected-
outside, nature fallen.
Along his years-
he was loved without knowing how to love,
embraced not knowing how to hold,
home not knowing how to father.
Yet in this moment, in this breath
he is today beloved.
photography courtesy of Sarah Vaughn
The story deep in the marrow of my life betrays the simple touch of air to skin. Blood-spilt memories lay unheard, unknown but pulse with my breath and soul.
The stains of love and hate look the same in me and equally reflect the tragedy of my fears-
and I pray for reconciliation.
Photography courtesy of Ginny Hunt
It’s a damning process storing every thought , worry
tucked unfolded mostly
so the space feels empty, sterile to the curious.
No presence or joy
broken soul alone
though an open door of life nurtured love.
No space for love or hate-tucked unfolded mostly,
muted and muffled by an unnatural shhhh…
Photo by Steve Garrington
To the point of exhaustion I fall
out from light and conscience
eye to face on wakening with monsters
–the chase begins again.
Smooth and loose inviting touch
not morning’s bite so crisp or cool
but Friday peaceful inside-out.
The sigh, drawn breath… pain and all
embracing life most tender there.
A gaze embalms the heart to flesh,
enmeshed triune incarnate life
smooth and loose inviting touch.
Photography courtesy of Pat Cegan
What of the rage within that swells?
then like a boom, you crash against the wall with words
you knock another off their holy high and you fall and drown
ego slammed against the shore
shamed to be sand-covered
soaked in humanity
photo courtesy of Kalani Cummins