saturday

a saturday morning and the sun is wide awake. from my window, i can see that the landscape has changed. everything looks brighter with you here. i've missed you and i've missed me. stretching out these dormant peices, breathing life into viens abandonned like trails grown over, you reset these bones and call to me. my eyes are blurred but i see you clearly. i laugh out loud. oh, how i've missed you.

i feel whirled about, spinning without any knowledge of where i'm going or how or when. will i crash? it doesn't matter today. i'm on a magical, musical ride where everything is one suspended moment, fiercely free and uncertain. the only thing to know is i'm airborn, untethered, laughing and watching your hair whip in the wind. we are sky diving but i didn't see if i had a parachute. every now and again, i contemplate the moment when this momentum stops, when i meet harsh reality, then the ground wallops me, sending shock waves throughout my years.

like a child i enjoy this free fall, enjoy these brief moments in the sky, when the rest of the world looks small and far away. i do cartwheels in the air and forget that i have any limbs to be responsible for. i smile so big, i take out entire insect populations with my teeth as i hurtle through this wind tunnel life.

a saturday. the sun wide and awake. i wide and awake. oh, how i've missed us both.