Sunday, June 22, 2008
it only takes a sliver to illuminate this room
but I'd gladly take more
if more were willing
a sliver can hurt. a sliver can give you a glimpse into a secret world. a sliver can give you enough light to see in the dark. a sliver of glass. a sliver of light. a sliver of time. a sliver of hope. at first glance the word itself reads as the metal that forms many things, from coins to mirrors to jewelry to the processing of photographs. swap the l with the i and you have another word full of possibilities. shiny bright possibilities.
it only takes a sliver - to cut the flesh, to reveal the truth, to see the light.
I like pulling slivers out of jG's hands, such a tiny thing that can't be ignored. something unseen that causes pain. I can remove the perpetrator with the white curves of my fingernails. a simple comforting act. love is like that. taking someone's pain and disposing of it with your hands. little acts of love. enough slivers of love and we could illuminate the world. it only takes a sliver - but I'd gladly take more, if more were willing.
for more musings on slivers, read my short short story sliver.