Tales on a tongue

My friend has a tale in her eyes.

Strings of unholy stories.

making way to her tongue.

She trembles between a brewing coffee.

And an epiphany.

In a mute prayer, she hands me a blade.

Fiery edges that call the sun a child.

To untie the matted lies in my mouth.

I try, i move in effort to help her

blood and sand on my fingers.

she shakes in pain.

trembles and falls

We are here, two elements in-between galaxies.

asking for the truth on her tongue

When the story warms up in my palms.

It is of the story of a poem that reminds us of pain.

The inadequacies of a human.

The perfection of words that leave us empty.

She is resting now.

This storyteller.

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