Three Sides to Every Story
One side floats -
a shimmering veil,
woven from words that rest light as air,
a tale gliding just above the ground,
slipping past
roots and shadows.
It drifts with ease,
skimming the surface,
keeping well clear
of what lies deep.
Another side hides
in layers,
a patchwork cloak stitched in half-truths,
threaded with glances,
and silences that speak in riddles.
It flickers in and out of sight,
a phantom we nearly remember,
but can’t quite name.
The third side -
the one neither of us knows how to tell,
is tangled in brambles, thick and wild,
a story curled tight, buried in the earth.
It hums below the surface,
whispering
only in dreams,
a truth waiting to be unearthed
if we dare
to reach in.
Three sides to every story:
one that glides,
one that hides,
and one that waits,
ancient and still,
for someone bold enough
to piece it all together.
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