Poetry: holding the world

Why do I think

that if I wrap my arms around

the world,

press it to my heart and hold

it tight,

that I can make it better?

Make anything better?

What the world wants is not me,

but its own,

and its own is not within

my power to give.

Instead, I absorb the pain

of the longing,

and wish the world would

hold me.

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