{in which she attempts to define love and hate in 17 syllables each}

{…while holding her breath until morning}

::

 

Love’s got a quiet star tongue, st(r)ung bright in an infinite hum-hope-sky.

Hate holds too much fire in its own belly; wastes its breath on fear, and sting.

 

::

 

..
In April, we poem. And poem, and poem. 

 

 

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1 Response to {in which she attempts to define love and hate in 17 syllables each}

  1. and my breath is taken away. ❤ this phrase is another level: hum-hope-sky

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