In the quiet of the night, she lingered, savoring a slow drag from her cigarette.
After all, this was the sole indulgence she allowed herself from time to time.
As she observed the smoke swirling gracefully before her,
she sensed a calmness enveloping her.
Gradually, her spirit was rising, and she understood the importance of not hurrying its journey.
She was not just okay.
She was more than okay,
she was truly alive.

-Rhia Clay

Sometimes my spirit feels so weary.
Or maybe my soul is just done with hollow people,
sitting behind church doors and pillars of justice,
armed with hate.

-Rhia Clay

I felt my wandering spirit kick up a dust that rattled in my bones.
Spirit speak, hungry as you are...  

-Rhia Clay

I heard an expert say
missing someone
is simply an act of love—
So often woven
into unhealed pain
and heart-sores.

I thought of the night
I vowed to engrave
your laughter in my soul.
Kept safe as a personal vinyl,
sometimes replayed—
because I kept my word.