This is where we balance
On this heavy thread
Our days, under pressure
Our nights, encrypted hands
This is what we choose
This is what we hold

Diamonds dipped in gold

We are riding reckless
With no blink wasted
Quick sand, are we sinking
Quick sand, are we rising
This is what we take
This is what we hold

Diamonds dipped in gold

We wear no crown of thorns
Our thoughts form one line
Our hearts, straight into fire
Our charms, petrified luck
This is what we carry
This is what we hold


Previously published in
From Montreal, A La Spezia
Chapbook, 2018

Labels: artform, book, material, poetry, writing