what would one risk, and for what.
looking out at the endless possibilities of failure, an
oceanic voyage of freefall into
loss. what would you jeopardize, and
where would you lock up the brokenness of
that shattered thing you gambled with.

birds squishing in fires.
hands reaching into ashes.
we slowly take the feathers off,
one by brutal one, and


when it works we understand.
new things. new trials, new versions of pain
born less hostile and hurtful. new
bones built of soil and

we dance and we exhume, we
wander farther, further and learn to
enjoy what’s broken, what’s gained.


prompt that inspired this