Words said by my ancestors
and to be said by my descendants.

It is all a cycle
in a greater meaning
of nothing

I'm saying words that touched the tongues of many
Are they wise or foolish?
Does it matter?
It will only repeat the cycle

after you,
i can't hear the chants,
of nightingales that once sat,
on the branches of the tree,
outside my window,
i don't see any flower,
bloom in red,
i can't feel rain,
falling on me,
i can't smell the petrichor it left,
in other word,
after you,
o have lost my senses,
i have lost myself....

Before

My feet are big
And growing ever bigger.
Large, wide,
And filling every shoe.
They stick out from me
Making flats look ridiculous.
They are like life rafts,
Falling to the side like pillows
When encountering resistance.

After

My feet are long
And growing ever stronger.
Supportive, storied,
And deserving special care.
When pointed, they are elegant,
Skeletal and muscular, even when in heels.
They are like canoes,
Chiseled and carved with love,
Gliding forward with intention.