02/06/2026
I was bidding on this piece of art for at Paperbark & missed it, bummed…Matt Moberg the incredible artist wrote these words also:
“When Glass Remembers Sand”
Close your eyes
and imagine the world
continuing without you animated within it.
Imagine your breath
getting its eviction notice.
Imagine your body
becoming something people speak about with the careful grammar of gone.
Imagine yourself
as a photograph on a mantle,
a smile trapped behind glass,
a rumor still wearing your shoes,
a sweatshirt folded in the back of a drawer
because grief has no idea
what to do with its hands
except hold on
to the shape you used to make in cotton.
Then they said:
Write the truth
that will stay
when you no longer can.
Do not write about the passwords.
Do not write about the bank account.
Do not write about who gets the car,
the paintings,
the cheap blue mug
you kept for no good reason
except it fit your hand
like a small country
that had never asked you to leave.
Write the thing behind all those things.
Write what you refuse
to disappear
without saying.
So I wrote this:
If I have one ask
of everyone I have ever loved,
one last flare
thrown from the burning porch of me,
one final, ridiculous, holy shout
from the exit wound of my life,
it is this:
Do not betray
the moreness in you.
Do not kneel
at the altar of almost.
Do not abandon the enormity
that has survived inside you
like a cathedral
built entirely
from lightning.
Do not take lightly
your wideness,
the impossible orchard,
the stubborn green thing
that kept growing
even when no one clapped for the bloom.
Do not call it all too much because the world
has a talent for being too little.
Do not fold your thunder into a napkin.
Do not make your soul use its indoor voice.
Do not dim for applause.
Do not trade your wildness
for the counterfeit peace
of being easier
to explain.
Continued in comments…⬇️
