I used to lie all the time about nothing
spinning myself out of existence
because the truth took too much time
and vulnerability.
Tightly locked windows and doors
foolishly protected pearls and nonsense.
Then, came your summer breeze
sweeping through tiny spaces, cracking the code,
softly assuring me of the surprise safety in honesty.
Your gift was staying and not turning away
no matter what truth I dropped, or how I dropped it.
Whether it rolled out in a circle or a straight line
it landed on high, holy ground in your heart,
sprouting into something sacred we both thought we wished for
or could live with.
And I get braver with my stories, laughing in the awkward spaces.
The truth takes few words, you taught me.
Here’s the earth,
There’s the sky.
Sometimes, I can’t jump that high.
Pearls and nonsense,
all of it is me.
