I would collect all the scattered pieces
of my energy, sweep 'em up off the
ceiling floor, tuck their ends into
time for myself, into dreams, into
tea time with creation, into хюгге, away
from everyone's eyes. I would hand
them over to myself & keep them
with the Universe, away from fear,
dry, alive & real.
Yet instead I will colour 'em & let
them be as part of sharing
space, the result of an
explosion of my soul.
