Please


I don't need you to change me.
Just help me become
who I am. 
 
It is good
and very good for me
to feel precisely what I feel,
this cloud of grief,
this downpour of despair,
without any names or notes
to self.
 
Only let me dissolve
in a healing rain
that penetrates all my shadows.
A liquid sliver of sun may arise
on the jagged edge of mourning.
Or not.
 
Now I can feel everything
because I have tasted
the night.
 
How a bud bursts, spilling
beauty from its wound.
How the chrysalis shatters, 
frees the golden 
moth from her season 
of uncertainty.
How a single tear 
becomes the sky.
 
 
Photo by Laurent Berthier

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