this light is soft
it falls on skin like a blush
making it seem touchable-
like intimacy isn't a weapon of war
but something i could feel with my hands
trace with fingertips and not feel
shrapnel
in my mouth and chest-
this light makes me forget i am collateral damage
makes me forget i am also the target-
this is the kind of light produced by nature
that has learned silence does not have to be lonely
this light is soft
before shadows even hit the wall
and i have been waiting for it
YOU ARE READING
Dysphoria
Poetry"I dreamt I grew roots and sunk into deep earth, Where mud became my skin and dampened grains freckled my surface, I opened my mouth wide for the sprouting branches Leaf-speckled limbs And sunflowers blossomed from my eyes, Sunlight bled in waves, w...
