You tell me your trauma and it trickles from your tongue Oozing Softly, sweetly Into the waiting cauldron And so we stir Your drizzly trail in raised circles like braille For my fumbling hand to cast over As the shifts you describe bring my child alive Whirring cogs in my brain as you reach your refrain - They call it information overload, I call it letting my brain be enveloped.
Love this so much!! 🫶🏽