I'm sure, like me, you have heard yourself come out with stuff that you don't believe the half of...
Likewise you've been on the receiving end of it...
We can't always say what we feel.
Sometimes we may not even know.
But we can suspect....
Into the Heart
I feel your heart beating beneath the surface of what you say
Accessible only by swallow hole
In a place where all is shadow and feeling and heartspeak
Where there is no need to hold on to the furrowed clint surface
that erodes day by day anyway
The sooner the rain comes and washes you down some grike the better
I watch your face
fashioned by the shapes you make
as you tell yourself stories that give you something to hold on to
When really there is nothing but this fall into this place
where you become column,pillar,icicles of shape
Substance that is left over after the fall and descent
into the heart.
Copyright with Cathy Leonard 2016