this is a poem (2 of 2) this is a poem. it is a limited tool constricted to rules defined by our minds and the limited time our bodies have had to make ways on how we engage with the physical space. a tongue’s shapes a mind’s maze a body’s breaths inherited pains none will excuse us with huge excuses but do, obscure our views of us and push in ideas of us to each of us of what must not be enough. i’ve had enough of this stuff! my love, is enough. it will hold a space: a still and calm place where the surges of sorrow merging with tomorrow can shake nothing, from now. by trevor currie all rights reserved