Tuesday, April 11, 2017

NPM Day 11 {Contain}

August 31, 2016

Infant tears unmeasured.

Wrinkles uncounted, unsurprised.

I tried to save sand in my pockets.

I attempted to hold whole lives.

Slipping away like sunbeams.

The last sign of light is the best.

What we contain cannot be known.

What remains is the test.

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