Edit: “nothing” is not really what I intended. Revised to “not enough”
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The one (and hers) far away
with her oceans and her smile
who I crave
The other (and hers) not so far
With her burden and her prayers
I can’t save
The one (and hers) right here
With her pages and her wall
Never was
The one (and ours) who is gone
With her suffering and her joy
Always loved
Sixteen in all, yet not enouh
I want never again to explain
Deep, deep music
Sweet, sweet cherries
Fresh, fresh water
Perfect, perfect words
Ripe, ripe watermelon
Silent, silent touch
She’ll just know
But she’s so far away
As the orchids bloom and wither and bloom again
We grow
we work,
we specialize
we speciate
no longer able to create new life
with those once our own
no longer blood
I walk a fine line between creation and extinction
Passion, another word for suffering, is universal
Ears, unlike eyes, have no lids
So we cannot un-listen to the beat of the drum
As long as our ears are not un-listening
We cannot not dance
