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So beautiful, I see you smiling with the pink-stained teeth and exhale my own smile.

I found this poem in my inbox this morning and seems like a perfect bookend to this essential process of longing for wholeness again:

No Matter What They Say

You do not have to get over it.

You will carry your grief

and be carried by loss

in any way the carrying happens.

As if you had a choice.

Grief builds rooms inside you

no one else will ever see,

rooms with doors

only you can pass through

filled with songs or silence

only you can hear.

Rest here. Or dance here.

Shout. Or whisper. Rise

like milkweed seeds on the wind.

Or lie. Here, you can only do it right.

Here, there are no other eyes

or ears to tell you what to do

or how long it will take

or what choices to make.

And if you are weeping, weep.

And if you are dry, you are dry.

The rest of the world

can talk about stages

of grief and how it should be,

but you, you do not have to listen.

-Rosemerry Trommer

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"So that no arrow can find its way back to the other. At least for a while. I am a child, angry & pure. All I want to do is avenge time."

🖤

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I love 2. “The knots in the back of my spine silkening. Unspooling like the river-long neck of a snake.” The word unspooling has such a feeling to it. Beautiful Trivarna 💗

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This is so beautiful, thank you for sharing with us xx

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Oh fickend gorgeous thank you !!!

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