It Soaks In

Yes-

Let the tender flames of All that Is Goodness tumble in

Streams and Rivers around your

Silhouette �"

It doesn’t have to

Soak in Now.

Realization takes His sweet

Time,

Playing tricks and fooling

Us into believing we have lost

That which we have had all

Along.

That which skates down our

Vessels and

Plays games with the

Vast Spaces stitched within

Matter and Memories and

Every Decision that projects itself from

The walking talking architectural

Genius that We are �"

The products of the

Trails we leave behind us and

The crooked road before us

Illuminated dimly with

Ancient, crumbling street lamps.

It’s in your Marrow,

Soaked to your

Core.

 

Yes-

You can watch my face contort with

Ecstasy at my own

Realization that there exists a

Blueberry in every bite and

The sloppy kisses of a

Newborn can dribble down

Our chins forever and

Even if we hold a veil

Of ashy browns and greys

Over our own

Vision,

There are always

Windows.

There are always

Pores on the

Surface flooded with

That Which We Are Scared to Forget

And corridors marinating with

That Which We Never Will.