There are expressions that bloom much larger than thoughts can contain

In some walled garden

so they are transplanted to flourish as words


Language is a stream so small at times  

and this expression is a salmon, spawning

with the drive to swim upstream

against current, seeking oceans


When language is too weak to bear the weight of my hearteat

Action steps in with the shoulders of Atlas

strong enough to carry our world

then I do not tell you how I feel with speech but with a grand singular gesture. 


What if that gesture simply echoes is smallness

A pebble dropped into a canyon


Then – or now – I will spend my life to tell you

I will rise and sleep and move between

to be sure you know


thank you

you are good

i love you




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