What hope tastes like:

the hard labor of joy

cut glass

rotting peach promises

and pills —

everything which is hard to swallow

and much harder to believe in. 

but when the stars are no longer 

enveloped in mist,

it tastes of sleep,

of you,

of tomorrow

and of vast fields stretching

from their giant’s slumber;

my heart no longer aching

into two. 


Poem: © Kristiana Reed 2021

https://linktr.ee/KristianaReed

5 thoughts on “What hope tastes like:

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