Not Responding

The river bound touch of hate that runs through my soul to teach me a thing or two about that word called

Love…

It’s your enemy,

It’s your caged bird that sings to mock you,

Its that never ending four-letter connection that sets you free…

To let you fly off the ground and touch the clouds that breathes water and air…

To be able to count to three and run back to your fantasy of the one who gave you a Curse…

And

A

Blessing to feel—

Hate—

Love—

All in one bounded torso of life and bones to form more of what is created to make—

That enemy in You…

Feel free to Respond—

Or

Lye beneath the mesh of life to cancel your calling, and pierce the words that flow in red To

Not Respond