my body is sand sifting through
a equilateral box
where is your remembrance
of the ones you love
there like oil in water
would you listen if I was to complain
because i am terribly emotional
and sometimes incoherent
do you take words like a grain of salt
and toss them around my fields
just to choke my plants
or should I be audacious enough
to speak my mind?
I am the cracked and uneven ground
yet I always tread softly
am I that old house on the outskirts of town
where young children bravely come to play
or to just hear the sound of their feet
treading on my floor boards
and the muffled cough
from the dust saturated air
Have we desired so much love
that no one could possibly give?
Are our hearts radically insatiable?
and in the end we are a doll in an attic closet
because we’ve been played with and done for
and the intimacy that we so long to desire
just a soft breath away
Would you just lift me up
just to allow me to fall?
or can we spend some time
all the time in the world
just to speak mind to mind
soul to soul
to find truth, beauty, and grace
through mere words
A Sift
Contemplative Writing 