POEM: IT WORKS BOTH WAYS

With velvet skin
she shot vectors through
like the apple archer

Releasing even eagle
talon plucks
like a splinter gatherer

I tell her
"The goal is not anger
the goal is not judgement"

But every action
is weighed on previous
whims of fantasy

She still defines them
by their mistakes

We know their pain
is not much different
than the struggle in our skin

Do we let our voice out
or their voice in?

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