Friday, August 14, 2009

Ancient Tea Cups.

Seems nothing to do with my broken thoughts today.
Solidarity cornered every space of a room full of people.
I forgot everything - as I stared out the window.
And the tea cups only speak of a brital and very fragile heart.
I have been the box marked fragile with careless movements
that have caused glass to become melodious from the inside out.

Person after person today,
I realized I love a little less each day.
And I fear it is the well-wounded heart that has bid me
all the more bitter at the world. At God - I wonder. At love.

All my thoughts ran together.
But I thought much.
Weary eyed.
Feeling rather appalling.

I want to feel more like a woman.
O, more than anything do I.
May it come in time.
Time that fights profound in solidarity,
in rememberance and forgetfullness.

Moreover, may these ancient tea cups I remind myself of
be restored as new yet unwillfully historic through and through.
Valued high above any other cup in cupboard.

This post marks only the beginning of a journey frightfully I biggie into.

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