But then the tightness begins to loosen
with every day, subtly. Slowly.
A smile becomes fuller,
for all types of love
come and fill my heart again:
My grandmother, a good run.
The ocean, my happy cousins.
With each new day and sun
I begin to remember the good.
Because knowing that this thing finally
gets shined on, burns, and dies,
renews and grows
and you survive
is enough.
