Marathon

Running. Convalescing. Gathering.

Steep is the spine. Worthy now. I never questioned the existence of God. Or the tearing of clothes and speaking in musical tongues. Maybe you could hang onto me for a while. What is the sound of love for?

Listen to me. I like being chosen, and broken. Rebuilt. Gathered.

I certainly hope no one feels trapped. Like I have. Do you feel trapped? Covered. Smothered?

You without a face. Stuck through your fingers for your decisions. Every move captured. Recorded. Made strict. Policy maker. The missing face. Shopping through faces. New blood mixed with the resilience of never. you are outrageous. a host of magical things.

Group me with you, in the brand new. A splitting of hairs. Taste me in your power. That buzzing sound.

Happiness is lost in solitude. Found in solitude. You better never tell the story of this blood we shared. We dove in. Heartless. Catching. Cold. Dove to the deepest place.

The contraction of muscles. I am not afraid. Have you ever?… Have you ever seen water this clean?

Please don’t make me love you more. Stop and be.. with me. I am early to your arrival, once more I am early. Stop and be with me

art credit: Lionel Smit — Accumulation-Cloud Resin & Fiberglass on Wooden Base Hand Finished with Automotive Paint