Improbable Cycles

 

Every time we meet I see that smile

and I know that the door I found

the one that was bolted closed

with a chain obstruction and sight hole

hollow by design and weathered;

 

I’m raining.

 

Every time we meet I am enlightened

and I believe that each storm has tortured eyes

the well of emotions and a bucket

a tattered and striped tiger

dangling by a thread;

 

I’m thundering.

 

Every time we laugh I am better

and I say that this will not be the last

the state of being covered in waves

with light and soul

rising above the ground;

 

I’m shattering.

 

Every time;

and I know these feelings are linear

the solitude stuck in a cycle

with the perpetual understanding

that I must once again walk away

 

I’m everything.

 

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