Read My Lips |
I clutch onto the ballon.
My feet dangle, as they skim over fluffy specks of dust I tie the string around my hand and promise to never let it go. Just my balloon and me. It catches onto a slight breeze, bobbing and weaving past razor sharp mountains. My heart rockets, ready to blast off into the horizon. Complete bliss fueling the engine. But all it takes is a single branch, beneath the bustle of green blades, to pop what is fragile. Flimsy string slips from my grip as I plummet back to planet Earth.
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Sun:
I rouse them from their sleep with gentle kisses. Their petals unfurl against my glare. I promise to always return. For they should never dread the dark. Boy: I envision the dimples that will illuminate her cheeks when the whiff of summer infuses her senses. Dainty buds always blossom with time. Husband: When she sniffs the sweet fragrance will the years of forgetting and empty silence become a distant blur? Can it buy us back our youth and erase the fine lines creased across our brows? Will it stand as a remembrance that life requires more than sunlight and water to really consider one alive? |
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May 2021
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