We Were Made From The River by James Diaz

I only meant dying too
is beautiful
is a thing
you do only once

her hands were the color of a mothers voice
in a field so far from home
the sky was the only familiar thing

you searched for clues
as if love were a mystery box
of birth-stones
the shape of bodies
merged in a fire
meant to reconfigure hearts
as homes for yellow light

underneath your skin
were tiny scraps of loss

it is so hard to know
really
how lovable
you already are

 

©2018 James Diaz

 

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Bio: James Diaz is the author of This Someone I Call Stranger (2018) Indolent Books. In 2016 he founded the online literary arts and music journal Anti-Heroin Chic to provide a platform for often unheard voices, including those struggling with addiction, mental illness and Prison/confinement. His work has appeared in Occulum, Bone & Ink Press, Moonchild Magazine, Memoir Mix-Tapes and Drunk Monkeys. He resides in upstate New York, in between balanced rocks and horse farms. He has never believed in anything as strongly as he does the power of poetry to help heal a shattered life.

You can find James’s pages on FaceBook and Twitter.

 

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