Poem

Through their blank eyes
they speak their dead words
as if they are them. They
caress their means of existence
as an exhibition of ritualistic rounds,
with their spittle dried around
the edges of their mouths
giving way for the darkness
to feed among each closing
and opening of their haunted
caverns; they truly believe they
are among the structure of it all.
And exactly as they are, we see.

-M. Taggart

First Light

If you can’t admire the brilliance of first light
I suggest looking in the mirror and telling yourself you’re worth it
Trust yourself a bit more, Love yourself deeper
Because you can’t admire the light if you’ve
Never truly seen it

-M. Taggart

I can be simple if you let it be

Our One

And we told him-
It went not well,
We aren’t ourselves every day

So we take the sun
With its golden rays
And we take the shadow too
‘Don’t you see,’ we say-
‘This one is you.’

-M. Taggart