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  • Reminding
    The ghost of the old me
    creaks the floors,
    flickers the lights,
    puts images in my head
       reminding
    how far I’ve come.
    Through the dark,
    lips blowing ash,
    shaped by experience,
    by symbols all around,
    a story of eternity
    like a drain in the floor
    swallows everything,
        reminding
    that there’s a beginning,
       reminding
    that there’s an end,
        considering
    that there’s neither.
    That is
    until you experience a birth,
    or the aftermath of a death,
    watch her leave as the door closes,
    hips and swagger
        hypnotizing,
    that word echoing,
       reminding,
    reminding me to hold
    your hand
    as we leap,
        releasing
    anything that makes us heavy,
    floating away
    like a balloon,
    a floating green bead,
    a thread of Indra’s net,
        remaining
    as quiet as a fog over a pond,
    or a spider resting on her web,
    or dirt caught under
    fingernails,
        while on the inside
    I’m as vibrant as a peacock,
        catching
    a person you love staring
    at you
    because they love,
    or maybe it isn’t love
    but
       appreciation,
        admiring
    in their silence,
    whoever they are,
    whoever you are,
    why-ever you are,
        reminding
    why we keep going
    and
    why we choose to continue
    on down the drain
     
     

     

    art by Tianhua Xu

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