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By Joelene Brewer

for those of the practical kind,

to find somebody fitted so perfectly for you

is a lot like hearing the echo of your name in the absolute solitude 

and safe haven of a hollow room


falling in love:

a lot like a follow of the eerie call,

to find termites have gnawed through your walls, 

holes, conjured without a doubt

to glove the hold of your hand.

an omen,



the butterflies entrapped in my gut,

have been tossed about in their holding cell,

               (like you said your friends would all do, 

                with mason jars and neighbourhood bugs

                 back when you were young,)

                (how it’d make you cry,)

fight or flight reaction ignited with nowhere to go,

it’s only so long before the butterflies find they’re eating themselves alive

but it’s a gut feeling

telling me something nonetheless.

i used to douse myself in awe of the universe,

all of its peculiarities and impeccable perfections,


my thoughts just drift to


reduced me to nothing more than an earthworm,

slashed into equally careless pairs by some playground morbidity.

two north-hearted magnets repelling the separate bodies apart from each other.

i know the practical mind of mine would never ache to stay so spellbound by somebody,

as much as i do now with you.

i’m so tightly bound to this tether of trust between us.

and even still,

it’s limp,

a withering wisteria,

barely tangible in my grasp.

in this foolishness of mine,

i let myself fall

with just this lazy tether to wrap my finger around.

as a feeble, budding thing,

i fall to be grounded in the lottery of a fertile soil

planting all my growth into such a fragile hope.

a note from the artist-

"This piece is a part of a project I had done based on the four elements. This poem, in particular, is taken place in the perspective of someone born from earth who struggles to comprehend human emotions such as love, and whilst in their confusion they feel a bit of danger, they go forward anyway.”

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