I am ever-wary
of luxury

and cautious
of delighting
in foolishness

but sometimes I forget
that the soul has its needs,
and sometimes need
means more
than reason.

If I open my mouth
while driving
I notice:
air has a taste,
I can feel it on my tongue

so I know it exists,
even if I can’t sense it
except while in motion
which only proves
that I must get up
and run just because
I have feet
and I don’t want
to forget the way it feels—

I am not afraid
of the empty spaces
that some would call lonely:
lonely to me
is the empty mouth
that’s forgotten
what it wants
to ask for,
no matter how

The tongue in the mouth
too long
grows bitter,
the voice unspoken dries up,
and soon the self follows—

our greatest wealth
is always unseen—
in wind
and space
and dreams.

© Psyche Marks 2006

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