Loss Builds

Loss builds
on loss.

Death of self
Death of old friends
Death of love
Death of health
Death of parents, and family
Death of youth
Death of innocence
Death of dependence
All mourning the ultimate
Death of Unity

All this mourning,
All the grieving we avoid
All the pleasant and comfortable
Lament a paradise we’ve only known

We dehydrate our shit. Put it in the cupboard.
Why not compost

Inside is where harmony hides;
paradise is unity with Self,
a fertile ground from which
the mycelial network of the heart
extends out from,
binding souls and minds in knowing,
“You are another myself.”

A warm embrace whispers,
“You don’t need to feel this.
Put it back in the dehydrator.”

Addicts all,
we soften the hard edges that have
crystallized on our atrophied courage.

Shatter the dreams
of your soft cell,
and let’s hold hands
wandering naked under the belly
of the moon.

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