© theme by ohmyklaus
posted 1 year ago with 5 notes

She said, pink lips parted by the cresting wave of words,

That everything becomes a something in context.

That that orange smudge thumbed upon the coldpress board

Is a tangerine hung between leaves of lace

And the branches of twine if you lay them down beside it.

And the blanket’s warmer if the door’s been left open

For part of the storm to sneak inside it.

And a hand’s a lifeline with another to find it,

And no one’s really alone.

There are hearts that beat faster at the red of a flower

But the scratched penmanship and the prick of the thorn

Are also the sources of the flush to the cheeks.

And we are magnificent because we are finite,

So very magnificent because we keep trying

In spite of the time line, the stretch of horizons,

The brevity of light.

That nothing should stop us-

No, not even a period-

No, not yet,

Just someday.

But before then,

The sun is a painting in the frame of a window.

And stars are the spaces through a quilt’s fibers.

And everything is something,

Even you,

Even me,

In the context

Of details taped to our lives.

~Amanda Jolly

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