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Pieces

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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