Tag: photography
Fault Line
At the base of beauty
there is a fracture.
Beauty is not a perfect voice
but a broken one,
the breath that escapes anyway.
Beauty is human:
the will to live
despite pain,
with pain,
out of pain.
Not by holding still
but by being shaken
and somehow
existing
anyway.
Rooms that Never Fit
Everywhere we went, the world kept asking who we were.
Some rooms never fit,
no matter how small you make yourself.
And still,
I knew it long before you said the words.
One of us had already left.
We kept dreaming,
just never toward each other.
The morning arrived but the daylight never came.
For a moment I understood something about the world—then it disappeared.
Woken by noises on the roof, I looked out across the back garden, down the street towards the seafront.
Urban wildlife.
I went back to bed.
No longer separate,
but part of everything that moves.
What lasts was always underground.