I did not know absence’s depth until you illuminated it.
I missed contradictions & absurdities until your laughter mocked it,
like I seemed not to feel the gasping aches, until love blistered beneath scarred skin to soothe it,
nor did I fully anguish with the ghosts until the peace disturbed them into wail.
Yet to the vulnerable between armor & shield, your existence gave hope– shrinking the utter solitude of being so deeply affected….
It became a given.
We will swab stories
with salt water and petals
under smokey halos
while adorned in crowns of
resilient, rebellious, undyeing silver
wittling the truth from the ones we still await with easy teases–
the other marked outcasts
with higher standards of liberation
fighting with every breath for transformation
They will come.
But how often
were you a lone gull
beak on land & sea
darting tween shells
to fish the poisoned sacred?
What was given has been taken.
And while I am so much more connected because of you, my loneliness looms without you.
Learn more about our dear friend Priya and her powerful work: