The Intimacy of Sincerity
The wall’s broken down,
The river’s run aground,
The water’s sound
Is nowhere to be found.
The angst of it comes to call
As it vanishes;
To be intimate
Or not at all?
To admit defeat
Is to win a seat
At the council of feelings
Where no one is left out,
Except from our meetings.
To be still
Is to gain nothing;
To move
Is to be something.
To be quiet,
Is to suppress all doubt.
But to remain alive,
You must let it all out.
