as far as my eyes can see

i dream
of salt water

between
the edges.

unfurling
beautiful mess.

bending rules
or opening.

playing dead
until shadows pass.

curled
in your palm.

sometimes yes

if i were to say "sacrifice is love made holy", with what would you reply?
and would i even understand? reading the pattern of your words,
peeling them back until red turns gold and drips and i start to wonder
for how long have you been wielding lightning bolts from your palms..?
..and what of these invisible walls? are we not gods? come closer.



inspired by "sacrifice is love made holy" by panos tsagaris

even when the walls crack

sometimes i think my heart beats so hard my blood sings.
"but for how long?" they asked.
i dont think it stops.
butterfly effect.

upon finding an asymmetry of sorts

between actions and words

the trick is to read between the lines.