William Michaelian

Poems, Notes, and Drawings

Aging, Confession, Stars

As long as this body is in the world, and as long as it remains lit from within, the urge, the desire, the need, is to tell all — the instinct, the drive, the purpose, the dream. I am my own living and breathing confession, and by this confession, my life is fulfilled.

I walked very early this morning on streets shimmering with particles of ice. The sky was almost entirely clear. But there were more stars on the asphalt than there were above. A beautiful, primitive experience. I did not slip, even once. Later, after taking off my shoes, I found a few stars melting on our old entry rug.

January 15, 2020

Categories: Everything and Nothing, New Poems & Pieces

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