"I am offering this poem to you, since I have nothing else to give." ~Jimmy Santiago Baca
“When things break, it’s not the actual breaking that prevents them from getting back together again. It’s because a little piece gets lost — the two remaining ends couldn’t fit together even if they wanted to. The whole shape has changed.”
– John Green and David Levithan, Will Grayson Will Grayson
I can seep in, I can dry clear.
And yes it would still be there.
And no I couldn’t hold you forever.
But isn’t it drafty at night,
alone in that canyon
with the wind of the mind
dragging its debris—
I wanted to put
my mouth on you
and draw out whatever toxin …
—but I understand. There are limits
to love. Here is a flower
that needs no water.
It can grow anywhere,
nourished on nothing.
And yes.
~ Kim Addonizio
“S o m e t i m e s u p . . .” she typed. Her wrists were bent like broken branches, and her fingers curled like crooked sticks, tapping out each letter on the keyboard.
“S o m e t i m e s d o w n . . .”
It was the answer to Nao’s elevator question. She hit RETURN and sat back on her heels, closing her eyes as though dozing. After a few minutes, a little icon on the side of the screen flashed and a digitized bell sounded an alert. She sat up, adjusted her glasses, and leaned forward to read. Then she began to type her reply.
Up down, same thing. And also different, too.
She entered her text and sat back again to wait. When the bell sounded, she read the incoming message and nodded. She thought for a moment, running her hand over her smooth head, and then she started typing again. 
When up looks up, up is down.
When down looks down, down is up.
Not-one, not-two. Not same. Not different.
Now do you see?
~ Ruth Ozeki, A Tale for the Time Being
(Just a fun post as part of The Daily Post’s Weekly Photo Challenge. This week’s theme: Descent.)
Never offer your heart
to someone who eats hearts
who finds heartmeat
delicious
but not rare
who sucks the juices
drop by drop
and bloody-chinned
grins
like a God.
Never offer your heart
to a heart gravy lover.
Your stewed, overseasoned
heart consumed
he will sop up your grief
with bread
and send it shuttling
from side to side
in his mouth
like bubblegum.
If you find yourself
in love
with a person
who eats hearts
these things
you must do:
Freeze your heart
immediately.
Let him—next time
he examines your chest—
find your heart cold
flinty and unappetizing.
Refrain from kissing
lest he in revenge
dampen the spark
in your soul.
Now,
sail away to Africa
where holy women
await you
on the shore—
long having practiced the art
of replacing hearts
with God
and Song.
~ Alice Walker from Anything We Love Can Be Saved
Defeat, my Defeat, my solitude and my aloofness;
You are dearer to me than a thousand triumphs,
And sweeter to my heart than all worldglory.
Defeat, my Defeat, my self-knowledge and my defiance,
Through you I know that I am yet young and swift of foot
And not to be trapped by withering laurels.
And in you I have found aloneness
And the joy of being shunned and scorned.
Defeat, my Defeat, my shining sword and shield,
In your eyes I have read
That to be enthroned is to be enslaved,
And to be understood is to be levelled down,
And to be grasped is but to reach one’s fullness
And like a ripe fruit to fall and be consumed.
Defeat, my Defeat, my bold companion,
You shall hear my songs and my cries and my silences,
And none but you shall speak to me of the beating of wings,
And urging of seas,
And of mountains that burn in the night,
And you alone shall climb my steep and rocky soul.
Defeat, my Defeat, my deathless courage,
You and I shall laugh together with the storm,
And together we shall dig graves for all that die in us,
And we shall stand in the sun with a will,
And we shall be dangerous.
“Defeat” by Kahlil Gibran, from “The Madman”
Words ... for the Time Being 