Even as there is no unsurety, I am frightened. With the rising sun, comes bold rushing wings and the hour hand counts our days promising us memories. But who says time won’t run down? Who says we won’t wake on the morrow, reaching hand towards hand, no longer gaining ground.
Flashing pinwheels spin wildly in the wind, winter’s sun stealing their pride. He outshines summer’s discards on principal, because he can. Forlorn, they twist away, their faces turn in shame yet still defiant, standing against the whitewashed landscape.
Even out of season, bold colours mark the coming of a new day, a return to the fertile season of new spring love filled with gardens of blossom gaiety and paths strewn in riotous laughter.
Your hard candy eyes mock my faltering steps, the corners crinkling like cello wrappers; cracks in the silence announce my worry overmuch.
Strong hands cradle mine, bearing the offering of a white wax paper bag. Together, we spill out the penny candy gems onto my lap before you guide the bag up to my mouth and whisper…
"Remember, just breathe, baby".(J.kress, 2014)
to love life, to love it even
when you have no stomach for it
and everything you’ve held dear
crumbles like burnt paper in your hands,
your throat filled with the silt of it.
When grief sits with you, its tropical heat
thickening the air, heavy as water
more fit for gills than lungs;
when grief weights you like your own flesh
only more of it, an obesity of grief,
you think, How can a body withstand this?
Then you hold life like a face
between your palms, a plain face,
no charming smile, no violet eyes,
and you say, yes, I will take you
I will love you, again.
Everything I’ve never done, I want to do with you.(via lovealwaysgabriella)