I weep.

I weep at beauty.

 

I weep at the beauty of nature, at the wholeness of Mother Nature, at the pureness of her expansive body.

I weep at her sharp peaks and pools of glimmering, salty liquids.

I weep at the sparkles in her eyes, deep dense pools of velvet, so blue and so black.

 

I weep at the beauty of love, at the expanse and depth, at the enthralling nature by which it grips us all.

I weep at its instinct to drown us. I weep at its habit of cutting us up at our seams of past hurts and hidden cracks.

 

I weep at the beauty of death, at the completeness of its arrival, at the impossibility of its existence.

I weep at its companions: Shadows and Vacuum. I weep at their paradoxical existence. I weep at the perfection of their incomprehensibility.

I weep at its inevitability, I weep at my body’s slow dance towards its embrace.

 

I weep for beauty.

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