How do you grieve when you’re ripped at that seams? Like there’s never enough time to pause, even breathe Not ready to go Not ready to cease Don’t wanna believe No sand left here to see Never taught to release Never taught not to beat…

A crack in the sky lets sunlight seep through the logy muck of morning and mourning making this one moment peculiar, enough to reach up and tear open the heart of the orb that sustains us while pulling us under into the distant keening.