Face to the Floor

Flat on the floor

Where the body is in constant dispute

With its downward boundaries

At the pinnacle of collapse

The result

By itself

No questions in this mutual embrace

A solid companion

Still as a diamond

Will hold under a sobbing wave

Under deep, calm, clear exhales

Catch any fall

Lay by any criminal or crusader

A keeper of the organs,

With tiny fists to grasp each individual quivering cell

No judgment in this eternal cradle

The perpetual comfort of this perpetual mediator

A lasting cohort

When the living shift and sway

And emotion spills down, collecting and pooling

With static, refueling,

On the floor

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