Enchanted

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A story lives in the shape of things

words in the walls

left unspoken or unheard.

A memory in the feel of the air

blowing through time

trapped in a trinket or touch.

A heart holds tight with a tear or a smile

enchanted

in the wisps and wonder

of lover speak.

 

New Mexico 8/2014

Gasp

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the wounding is the same

self inflicted in moments perceived through lenses lost in time

birthing shame

eternal scenes rehearsed to protect a shattered soul from love scorned

beholding fear

so taught by mothers and mother’s mothers until each is carried

beyond this

gasping

 

Image courtesy of “Franziska/ Whataboutawaterbottle”