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Belonging

  • Writer: Berlyn Gallardo
    Berlyn Gallardo
  • Mar 12, 2017
  • 1 min read

Creeping through the hallways of my dreams What is true? What is the mind, spinning half awake half asleep half truths? Even in the walking, the peering into dark doorways of possibilities and never chosen paths, the feeling inside is real and alive. How the body remembers this deep desire to discover a room that fits, to belong to a person who knows, to create magical, shimmery webs that hold us in each others arms. And yet, in these shadowed mind-roads, I can’t quite find the hand to grasp beyond this invisible air. My heart knows its own truth that I can only belong to myself first. Only I can know the inner landscape of these moonlit arteries and veins and the memories of long lost cells, before I can see the inside of you, or seek to be seen by you. This moment in my dreams is haunted by the aching melody of songs I sing to myself, the body’s restless breath, as I look outwards and inwards trying to clear these foggy windows.

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