Through Life’s Clenched Jaw
I have walked the hallways
where minutes gnash like teeth,
each second a pebble pressed
into the jaw of memory.
The air tastes of iron--
memory’s rust,
old prayers swallowed
before they ever touched the light
Yet still - I carry my candle
into the jaw’s dark cavern,
its flame a soft rebellion
against the grindstone silence.
Soft laughter rests in the cracks,
like seeds grabbed
into the frozen earth,
waiting for the frost to release them,
for spring to rise
from winter’s quiet.
I move onward,
not a hostage,
but marrow unbroken,
a hymn rising
through bone and enamel,
singing until the jaw
yields to the light.
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