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Writer's pictureJhanielle Thompson

Daydreaming


I tripped on purpose. Tripped right into you, hoping you would catch me. There’s no such thing as free falling. Every fall has a cost. That’s a lesson the ground taught me when I slipped through the space between your arms, the cracks between your hands. Those self-same hands that used to look so strong. A fallacy, I was unwilling to admit to.. I was hoping to shift the inevitable.


Before you, I didn’t know fingers had so much air between them. Air I swallowed up in haste as the ground met my lips. I gave to the ground, and the ground gave to me. A poultice tinged with iron. A bitter confection that reminded me what I’m looking for. I’m looking for a love that can fill my soul, like air filling my lungs — a love that trips into me.


Fast forward.. now as I intentionally set the table for one(myself and the Master). I am learning to set the table for two… the more I(we) simultaneously pour into me… the more I’ll be able to graciously pour into you.


Selfishly yet selflessly.



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