Of dark nights and the things you stumble on,
Of long walks and silence that envelops you,
Of days that push you to the edge of your soul,
Of words that stay stuck in the pen,
Of many that are said but don’t mean a thing,
Of those that need to be said yet don’t have a voice,
Of clenched jaws, blinding anger, punctured armor, tattered soles,
A pinch of salt, a squeeze of lime, a bar of chocolate, a cube of ice.