Exhale

Exhale

You always say the same thing
as if there’s one rule that applies to everything.
Be succinct.
Don’t carry extra baggage.

It’s true, in this way,
you can create a beautiful image –
but it’s not one I’d want to take home,
or feed,
or bring to bed.

I like a little clutter
to fill the empty spaces
between thought and sound.

And so – As a result – or, maybe coincidentally,
I like a poem that looks lived in,
like a 7 year old pair of shoes
that you just can’t bear to part with.

You always say the same thing:
that words, like change,
need to be saved for a rainy day.

And I always say the same thing back:
If you can’t hear the sound of the wind
rattling the panes
when I exhale,
it’s because you’re not listening.

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