silent river

sifting needs away

needlessly we stay

linger

formless singer

without words

guttural sounds that have become

so meaningless

that the river cuts through them

and clears the land so we can

sow the seeds of whats real

one more iteration of acceptance

One clap, two clap, three clap, forty?

By clapping more or less, you can signal to us which stories really stand out.