There is a hole in life that has your shape and I think that though I've talked about it, I have not looked at it in a very long time. It has always been there, none the less, a singularity pulling at my thoughts all these many years.
A Prayer Like Gravity
Mundus vult decipi
A Prayer Like Gravity 
I like this. There is a hole left behind any loss. Even the loss of the worst pet of my life made me want to rush out and get another to fill the sucking chest wound left behind.
LikeLike
Yes, and these emptinesses have form, sound, even color and scent…
LikeLike
Ah. Yes. I can tell there’s more poetry to mine from this. Much of life is built from these structural blocks of loss.
LikeLike
So each of us is a worm hole, providing access and escape to and through an infinite number of universes.
LikeLike
Damn, Jilanne. You always make me sound so Cosmological! I dig it.
Thank you.
LikeLike
And that really does help me see better where to go with “Shape II” and “Shape III”.
LikeLike
😮
LikeLike
Ah, magical. Your poems are succinct, straight to the point. I may lose myself to them.
LikeLike
Thank you Natalie–You are too kind.
LikeLike
🙂 singularity…you make me want to write.
LikeLike
That word just won’t seem to go away for me…
I am humbled, Mims–Thank you.
LikeLike
Rock on. What a great poem!
LikeLike
Thank you.
LikeLike
Reblogged this on Geo Sans and commented:
a poetic confidant … NaPoWriMo
LikeLike
Powerful sense of yearning, brilliant!
LikeLike
Thank you so much shaysky–These came from a strong place of absence in my life.
LikeLike
Pingback: My Poetic Confidants / My April Reblogs | Geo Sans