Breathing itself is a luxury. Everything
else is absurd.
To fall in love is a windfall.
A sunset glimpsed—an endowment
To feel anything is a gift beyond
the capacity to “deserve.”
Godforsaken, miracle forgotten,
we cry about our tears.
Sanctity rediscovered, tears become
heaven, “hell” the bedevilment of
a blindsided soul.
Come to your feet, and your senses,
my concussion-stricken counterpart.
See the gift that we’ve been given,
to feel anything at all.