runs like veins
through stone
history so grand,
you might wish
you'd been there
the romance of suffering
enviable to one outside of
fractured tales shift
with the landscape of
location, audience
not unique or eloquent
in being unfulfilled
every only-if the
tragic, reliable constant
we are not so
special, after all
what lies behind
the facade is still
less than ordinary
turn, face our simple,
humble truths;
the reality of us
far more lovely
than all of
our prior fiction
know that we are
collectively magnificent
