~ Mary BB
*For Tuwin
Old wounds poke through your leathery skin,
eruptions of grief unhealed.
The hot tears
close your throat and chest.
Reminding you
the cost/reward of loving another.
You feel
she left too soon.
But not before she taught you
to love, to lower your walls, to let others love you.
In her death the knowledge,
you won’t shrivel up and blow away.
Being human is both soft and hard
And it’s all okay.
Between Silence And Sound 