I

 

If you live life making left turns

within the memory of rights,

chalk tires to find your way

through the waste of landmarks.

Make grand decisions in a fearless present

and get a receipt on your moments.

 

The whisper of destiny will not come

unless you make the decisions

and answer questions from your gut.

 

 

II

 

I once heard it said that death

is like slipping into a warm bath.

 

 

III

 

After the opening there are those

who will seek out forgotten possibilities.

Others will return to the beginning,

where they once again face the pendulous ones

who see with eyes that have turned inwards

and speak the words

that have turned their throats sour.

 

 

IV

 

Once you have crawled through shit,

you are cleansed in the new awakening.

Only then are you ready

to reach the mountain tops

look over into the other side to see

the possibilities of the promised land.

 

And this! My lovely souls…

This is your true vacation!

 

To achieve this, work must be done,

and the demons must be tackled.

You must not be of worry or fear,

for even if you lose, you win.

Just dancing is the victory,

two-stepping out, going toe to toe.

 

 

V

 

You must move forward to go back

to find the door where you once began.

 

 

VI

 

I must declare…

The colors of the air once you’ve finished…

The scent of the words after the climb…

The taste of your spirit in the completion…

I can try to convey an unspoken thing…

 

The new old is so exquisite, I am blinded

and my liver skips beats to its beauty.

 

 

VII

 

Remember those nights in the frozen lamplight

where nothing was, but the bite of cold

as you lay in wait for a companion’s

arrival that would never come to be?

The open window brought a sizzling chill

that dripped over the skin like liquid.

The frustration is the coughing whisper

of a silence, spat by baby tongues.

 

 

VIII

 

Even the universe can cry.

Dewdrops were the first tears shed by the night.

 

 

IX

 

I have built castles from remnants.

They are broken pieces of my past

found on the shores of memory.

From the parapets, I stare

long into the darkness

wishing upon falling stars,

that feel like tomorrows supernova.

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