We're here together—
These two thriving images of me.
It is Acceptance, like soft thrumming of a faithless bird in the thornless vines of the vineyard;
the heavy darkness before a shallow step of naked feet on a wretched scale.
We're holding hands—
Myself and Me, like we used to,
When our love for eachother was mutual.
When the wide cavern did not affect the thoughts—
infect the perception, and the mirror, and the courage.
The courage of mine.
It is an open Fury that rests, at last, not only in the heart;
the spoken song that resides between the lies and the apologies.
We stand where no reflection,
nor derision can find us.
It is Prevalence, like the knoll atop the orchard;
the roof among the towers.
It is where the courage of mine grows, unbroken.