Sunday, February 17


In the beginning, I woke up every day without my teeth clenched
on this scream that would shatter the sky. 
I still wonder if I can ever return

to that quiet land. Amida Butsu, pure land, where no earth is barren, no life or love wasted. Lost, 

sighing wind, pulled recklessly from my shallows. In shadow. I am not her. Only the tears are the same.