Thursday, April 10, 2014

Last night,

the earthquake folded the 
ground into waves and 
every minute was a tremor
under our skin. Each neighbor 
who came out to the street, 
told me of little things they 
were doing, just then, before
they ran out. I wanted to say
these days the ground runs 
from beneath my feet - when
all else fails, I had thought, 
the same earth will be there 
under you and me - but see, 
these days break like water 
feel like stone, and as the 
ground moves, things which 
should have been things now
become matters, and every
day feels a task, but only,
love, if you were to ask.

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