the sweet sours of life—
I watched her mourn
the misery branched off into
exhaustion, her lips mumbled,
something about a moment of birth, of love
I can’t scream loud enough!
I can’t collapse!
I can’t go on—
how do we all just pick up
wander forth, gouge another day
out of the tapestry of time?
Oh morning, you sweet sour.
In you tumble, delighting in your
brightness seems almost blasphemous.
I grip onto all my thinning threads
and welcome you in—your beauty
it has disemboweled me.
I watch her—mourning in the echoes
of torture and sunbeams.
I am soured by the sweet morning
when it feels like it should be
the deep black of night…