Audacity and Humility

Like a sponge with too many pores

Soaking in every last drop

Drawing out from those seeps in the gut

The root of the matter

And as the ache begins to leak out

Draped in winter’s light

Desire drips from their bones

Eyes want of no countenance

But a timeless echo, resonance

Their forms incarnating again and again

Tangles that cannot be unwoven

As it was a reflection of euphonic utterance

Of truth