Published in
1 min readNov 8, 2018
all blown down, straw, sticks, stone
or, in search of real
(a response to Home, a writing prompt by Terijo on Intimately Intricate)
refracted
diffracted
rainbows
broken glass memories
empty windows
sliding through my fingers
cut we
to
me
you
spin
the world
unravels
thread binding
unwinding
in my hands
i’ll remember
all forgotten
and
iʻll
all
real
blown to illusion
the little bits
and still
here i stand
remembering
waiting
hoping
a single tear
real
a wise one said
it hurts
sometimes . . .
sometimes.
never said
how much
really