And how do I speak?
And what words do
“I choose here.”
Here in this place,
where my bones ache
in the hallow, in this
center empty space
in me.
To make life
more bearable,
more enjoyable,
to take the drink and
swallow all,
that life holds out
to offer,
and says, “yes, here.”
For I have been
found in want
and waiting,
glass and goblet in hand
to ponder
all of life’s complexities,
in the red
of grapes skins.
And how is it,
they’ve pulled the color
from the soil,
to offer up themselves,
a metaphor, a rhyme,
a reason,
to go looking
for the answer,
to drink it down
and “why not?”
For one day, “won’t we all?”
Find it.

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