“Some days it is simple…” ~ Deryn Rees-Jones
Other days, it is work to remain
in the dark without thinking of how much
more you love yellow. You slip
the pins from your hair
and the sweater from your shoulders,
wondering when this difficult love
will leave you alone—
And sometimes it is tempting
to say Oh let the whole earth wither
and never begin again;
let the spoon and the fork scrape
to the bottom of the bowl and come up
with nothing. On the hills,
only the ghosts of shrubs dressed
in milky fog; nothing more
than bread rinds in the cupboard.
When you gave, you held nothing back.
They looked under your tongue
but you knew about all or nothing—
And no one asked what it cost, or if
you ever went hungry at all.