Transliteration

It is not that I am somehow unbroken.
I have shattered a thousand thousand times,
becoming dust, a fine-grained cocoon
reshaping the world one tender touch at a time.
It is not that I am somehow unwounded.
I bear the marks of a thousand thousand hurts,
at my center that healing pool, sanctuary
bounded by the sharp edges that hold you safe.
It is not that I am somehow unburdened.
I bow beneath a thousand thousand weights,
these ungentle stones grinding
as they mill what feeds us.
It is not that I am somehow unwearied.
I have watched a thousand thousand nightmares,
rest stolen by wretchedness birthing new journeys towards the twilight of hope.
It is simply that I am in love with it.
I taste a thousand thousand words,
richly flavored by the truth seeded in every story
we choose to live.

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