Reaching inside the chair
. deep in the cushions
. I am sliced by a workman’s
. lost staple pack
. sharp edges up.
. It tears my flesh,
. leaves my blood on the leather.
Sometimes, behind us
. we leave words
. meant for construction.
Sometimes,
. our leavings
. bite.
Shawn, your words speak truth.
Thanks, Denise.
Such a well=developed, apt analogy.
and true! lol
Yes. Happy Weekend!
So far, so good! 🙂
I really like what this poem said without saying… if you follow. It is open to interpretation and that’s wonderful!
Fabulous analogy- and words meant for one’s comfort, ought never destroy another, if both are innocent.
Yes. But only when one ‘presumes positive intent.’ Some people automatically presume they’re being attacked. There is a special maturity that knows everything isn’t about you and that advice from an elder is worth considering!