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 Apr 16 Ayla Grey
Sia Harms
The only thing I can do today
is breathe.
--Feel the air move slowly, quietly,
begrudgingly through my chest.
The pressure of the world squeezes in,
and I try to walk, try to use my limbs.
But all of my energy is occupied
by the simple act
of breathing.
 Mar 15 Ayla Grey
ymmiJ
A Dream
 Mar 15 Ayla Grey
ymmiJ
fruit trees
chicken coops
and just the right tide
to dive for dinner
~
I'm an exit wound
I'm a numinous obstacle
I'm about to make landfall
I'm about to break free

I'm a nerve ender
A fascinator
A purifier
A world populator
And I'm about to break through

I'm the push and pull
I'm a counter argument
I'm dissonance resistance
I'm viral replication
I'm about to break out

I'm a singularity
I'm a spark
I'm the perfect detonator
To mind and heart
And I'm about to break up

I'm a simulacra
I'm an oscillation
Made of breath only
I'm a living, moving imprint
Of what no longer is
Yet somehow seems to be

~
Did I step on a butterfly once in my youth
That I must live in such pain today

Did I not reach out to someone in need
That my days are now crowded with hurting.

Did I never walk for that extra mile
That each step today is a torment.

Did I not study the course close enough
That agony is what I have to learn.

Have I earned a lifetime of level-nine days
When to be only aching becomes a reward.
                 ljm
Sometimes life is a pain in the *** - and elsewhere too.
Willow limbs susurrate in clandestine murmurs,
brushing the lake’s gouache-green reflections.
Beneath—jellyfish effloresce, spectral inhalations,
ghost-thin, unmoored, drifting toward oblivion.

Dandelions unravel, golden tendrils severed,
carried off in the lungwork of wind.
A musk rose lingers—feral, aching,
its scent curling like unshed weeping
beneath the hush of twilight’s jaw.

Chevy lilts down arteries
stitched in coral marrow,
leather still inked with your laughter,
your dark brown eyes—
blackwood, abyss, a gravity
I would fall into, fracture utterly..

Et pourtant, je t’attends, infiniment.

And in this risette of evening,
where sky spills into sea, salt-lipped, weeping,
I wait—
soft, surrendered, affetuoso,
a note held past silence, raw, humming.

For my best friend of 7 years
No matter how far the roads stretch, your laughter still lingers—stitched into the marrow of memory, a warmth I will always return to.
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