A Life Without Harm
Meaning arrives
in the absence of violence
The beetle I cup and carry to the window,
its legs tickling my palm,
frantic, alive.
I open my hand.
The bruise on the peach
I do not press.
The breath I take without displacing
more than my small share of air.
No violence in thought:
I do not wish you smaller.
No violence in word:
I speak only doors, not walls.
No violence in air:
even the environment feels my footstep lighten.
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