May your languor give you strength
To persevere, to bear that which you loose
Upon the heart’s altar. Gather your flaws,
In your trespass, know that you were meant to try.
Should time fall at your feet, should she,
With eyes cast down, begin the motions
Of longing, know that love may love again.
Though its tear-stream creases the contours of your mouth.
May the flow reflect the fissures of your skin. May the alleys in their
Receding proclaim your pain. May your lives then,
Be the rest of struggle.
The glow which hews upon the lip,
The flight of dead light in the sculpted face,
The bartered dreams in the efforts of clay. May you,
Inspired, fall, know why distance is received
And life with each morning strikes anew.
Copyright © 2021 Maryama Antoine. All Rights Reserved.
