Fists clenched onto the fabric of safety
stretches, soils and tears the very cloth
we desperately hope to save
When we loosen our grip, the remnant flies
aerated, swirled and boundless
we never own anything
Paradox
Kismet
Daily Practice
Fists clenched onto the fabric of safety
stretches, soils and tears the very cloth
we desperately hope to save
When we loosen our grip, the remnant flies
aerated, swirled and boundless
we never own anything
Kismet 
Lovely
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Thank you, Kae!
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🙂
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I love dichotomy in this poem! 😊
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Thank you!
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