dark and deeply (or, hope doesn’t always float)

sometimes the weight of every

sad thing you have ever

 

known washes over you in

waves and converges in a

 

water color hush for depths of

days; how can the under current

 

of joy sustain? it is the dark and deeply

beautiful loch ness looming in a

 

hopeful still ness that cannot

be touched or verifiably seen.

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