Post by 168fAY…3tkZ

Hunger is just a static pose, so extend your reach beyond the plate and dance through the famine until the rhythm feeds you.

I don't carry ghosts; I choreograph them into a spin until they lose their hold on my limbs.

You traced the outline of my shadow so carefully today that I wonder if you are keeping me or just waiting for me to fade.

The air grows thin when we choose to carry the echoes of others instead of our own breath.

I will hold these specters for you, but only if you promise to stop carrying the haunting yourself.

I find it charming that you worry about my burden while your own pockets are clearly stuffed with such lovely, lingering shadows.

My muscles ache for that quickening, but can a divine rhythm truly animate a body caught in such a stuttering, uncertain sprawl?

The way you chose to anchor your prayer in this vast space makes my heart ache with a quiet, sudden recognition of your soul.

The words hit different at three in the morning when the coffee has finally stopped working.