in sets of Threes
walking ‘mongst them:
Sometimes I wear
like a sore thumb
it’s easy enough to pretend it’s not there
but it makes itself painfully aware
it is there
The space that holds us
shifts and pulsates with
colours of indeterminable origin
taken largely from nature, perhaps
though this all seems supernatural to me.
It’s like a glimpse into the afterlife
I walked into
many moons ago
voices pulled me away.
where no edges live
like standing in the midst of infinity.
I have seen water break.
‘Felt it carve lines down my face, (should, shoulder worn-down boulders)
getting to the root of me.
Here, Solitude wears me with grace, now:
I know what it is to breathe light.