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Poetry
gauze
"gauze" - 5/24/21
 
Who am I if I do not write songs?
To what tribe do these myriad molecules belong?
 
When words do not come, symbiotically,
With melody for months and months
 
When a year's entirety stretches out indulgently
A carcass of defeat gesticulating "goddess I am lost"
 
It makes no difference who is cheering on
From the sidelines, offering assurances
 
All that matters in these moments of water-treading
Fatigue-wrestling (insomnia's faucet ever on)
 
Is that the spirit is struggling and in these moments
One must turn inward like a red rose at night
 
Replenishing the only way angels offer how
By bearing witness to the here and now
 
So, with regret and rebirth in equal measure
I denounce useless impatience in favor
 
Of useful irreverence which for now equals truth's expanse
Inevitable kiddush hailing self's immeasurable second chance