My existence is one of two options,
it’s completely binary and without
a gray area I can either sink into darkness
or step into the light.
Lately, it seems that all the light bulbs died.
I have to start a fire without matches
to light up my way.
I guess I can rub my heart against another stone,
it will create a spark.
But it’s all so hard when the dark becomes a familiar companion.
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2 thoughts on “Poem #290”
I like me the image of rubbing one heart against another – or against a stone – to renew a spark and the light.