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Mature Content

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EnigmaFallen head-rock bottom,
unto sheets of madness
Thousand thread counts of inane intolerability
Like falling into shame
pillow-y and impenetrably unknown
Dark nebula and countless miniaturized dots
that spell out,
"life is still within reach!"
waiting to be caressed by the loops and whorls on fingertips.
Empty stomachs and peeling skin
sunburnt luminous days left too few
…And we wait.
for the crashing wave to knock unsure feet
from beneath us,
the wind from our lungs,
sending aftershocks through capillaries
Myriad, untold, infinite wondering-
     if this is all.
     if this is the being.
     if this is truth.
waiting to encompass us like the unwavering hug from mother
after a scraped knee and left eye tears.
That ended.
Forgotten Sundays of pancakes and syrupy elbows
sticking
to the table
Wind that shakes hair from ponytails- licking cheekbones
and wandering past lips hiccuping
with laughter.
Waiting, too


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