peace is power.

and we never misplaced

nor forgot the peace.

our constant companion,

in the summers we nursed it with the rays of the golden sun,

never fraying

in the cold winters.

it stayed in place 

propped beneath,

between our lungs.

still.

-          - peace was our power.

seasons of becoming.

evolutions.

everything is within a fluctuationg season

unravelling,

revolutions

of the self.

-    becoming.