let us reconcile
in the moment,
for a moment.
the tiniest
of tensions are so
malleable to the parts of
me that know im
not worthy.

i fixate on a star
to the point that
if i stare long enough
i dont see the others
and it will dance
through a clear sky
like it could breath.

no one is ready for
my sweater. i work to
give but have yet to
pull sword from stone.
either i am not worthy
or i am not ready, but
defeat always feels
the same.

i see a real miracle
over and over.
things have never felt
so futile.
a star will crash
into the earth
and i will never
hold a sword.