POEM: Having Her Weigh With Me

The had her weigh with me
And it was sow right
There was nothing left
Accept light

This short poem is about the affair between an artist and their .  The -ridden gifts from beyond our doing and understanding are transformative, provided that we not ignore their presence and look a weigh. Deep makes it difficult to align one’s with the conventional prescriptions of the world, with all of its handsome formulas and fine-tuned scales.   overturns.  And delightfully sow.  The world bids us to write that report, finish that .  The , as any good lover, is accomplished at outbidding us to winnow away ours making or simply “being” together.  May your muse faithfully rip you from the sow called of this world and promote you to times and spaces where is your only wage.  And if, perchance, you don’t have a muse, lighten up, and like a fairy having taken flight in this sometimes abyssal world, they will land where the run away is lit up.

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