Two Stones


I pressed myself upon a stone.

I felt it’s grooves, though it was roughly all smooth.

I came to know it quite well.

I liked it’s curves,

As I had liked it’s given weight.

I found myself upon another stone.

Similar weight,

Different ridges.

I’m still tracing my fingers across it’s cool foundation.

Two stones too many.

There are more than plenty.

I just don’t think I can value them equally.

Something inside says greedily.

I’ll shift my feet towards gravel.

I’ll build my way up to boulders.

Stones are not for me.


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