And here we stand, hands unclenched, palms facing upwards, but not open, not receiving.


We let go and let go and are made fools by the wisest of proverbs. We are limp with love so as not to demand but deserve.

Our cupped hands will never overflow. They would hold every last star, because such is our need.

And if we wait, if we turn our hands up are we not to blame for wanting the rain to fall? Surely we cannot expect it to just for wanting?

And if we stand here still, barely noticing those others, neglected, forgotten, looking to us to fill their empty hands, are we not just fulfilling our destiny, wanting what we cannot have, getting the algebra of blessings wrong all over again?

Inevitable, is the lie we tell ourselves, even though it hurts so much to fail at indifference.

Human nature is how we were betrayed and how we betray. No one will ever be responsible and there will be no apologies to be had.

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