Letters from Xhale the magazine Words that breathe. Stories that Linger,

I have mined myself through the capture of my own feet,
watching my careful steps toward something I deeply care for.

If the world says there is nothing,
let Yah proclaim the storm.
Yet still, I guard my mouth and remain silent.

For I have nothing to prove.
Still, love finds its way into my heart,
and then—something shifts.

A movement within.
A breaking open.
Evidence not seen,
but felt.