A gregarious mistake, equating soul with expressions of minutia~
churning hands are tired but soul keeps shining,
it is the last piece of bread, give to the quiet, shaking with violence and empathy.
Soul emerges from the chambers of inna,
the spark of ember that draws us in towards desperate longing
it is that which you feel, nothing else.
Soul is to experience footsteps in sands of truth,
thereby evolving into a creation much anticipated in the ether/
You create culture, but defy resulting amass,
son, you are the perfect creature if you let it in,
energy of present/past is trepidation for the soul.
Amiss is the passion that forms the glue of heart’s desire,
an often conflicted understanding of soul,
perhaps to phrase it in such a manner of,
one to another, only you can break such bonds,
digital resources created by antithesis.
Soul loves to nurture your beautiful structure, human(e),
experiencing life’s losses and the rick,
begging from the undergrounds, radiating through shelters,
bones feel the thirst of temptation,
it is not human, let that go,
soul love is the purest aspiration; silent, touch.
Anna Rozwadowska 2020