Surrender (day 2526)

How did I make it through childhood
Run the gauntlet and pass inspection
I rode bikes down bad trails
Faught kids in the schoolyard
I played with axes
And climbed woodpiles
And chased after chickens
That had no obedience
I don’t know where I went right
But I stole kisses
And drank wine
And swam in holes
I wasn’t supposed to swim in
And slept in beds
I only half knew who owned
Yet here I am
Two past an age limit
And still stealing time
To take another ride
Down A sweet street
Called surrender.

Figurative Hand Memories (day 1061)

So the moon blinked and I saw what I had been waiting to see.
Like sweet flowers and long grass setting in the warm summer’s afternoon sun;
I saw that windows were figurative,
That Angels were literal,
That icons were forgotten memorizations,
And that caveats were the peaks and troughs of her supple skin
My hands caressed so.
My hands caressed so.
My hands caressed like wild winds flirting giant oaks
Drawing shadows as elixir cursed through my thoughts.
Here it danced amongst and on.
Where I thought I had begun, and knew I had rolled back to.
So I swam – figuratively – and saw what I had been waiting to see.