that bears such weight
whispers in my ear
without ceasing
i hold this secret
beneath my tongue
afraid to speak
its truth a knife
i place each word
with great care
precious and sharpened edges
set in rows like teeth
not every smile is
a smile, a warm embrace
a thin comfort
while laying in wait
i can count the moments
as blessings; they hold me
against the sorrow—
i
wonder what they’re worth?
No comments:
Post a Comment