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September 25, 2020

Both Things Can Be True, a poem on finding comfort in the gray.

I’ve come to love

the phrase

Both things can be true;

The innermost storms

of me

of all things

can nestle quite peacefully

within each other

rather than boast about

which can wreak the most

havoc.

And the gray becomes a familiar oasis,

previously a scramble to tug this way

or that

to appease an

imaginary

obsession.

The evening can rest in the haze

and create a breathless

panorama

and I can smile in wonder

at the edges of my

broken pieces

on the ground.

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