Blood Oranges and Sweet Nothings

Beaming. Walking in even late, the smiles couldn't help but pour out.
They know, they know something is off. Something is new.
Smiles, smiles and eye glances for miles.
Hair in braids, carrying a pie.

All this corny shit. It comes to me, quotes and temptations to pontificate.
I know not if it be fleeting or longer and drawn out.
And the odd realization is, it doesn't matter.
It doesn't matter, it doesn't matter.
So present and in the moment.
Gratitude seems an over-utilized verb as of late,
but I can't say I've ever quite been here.
Out of my head, yet settled right in my body.
Grounded, yet floating high.
Here and now, but capable of dreams and future fantasy.
Feeling free and non-possessive.
“You must love in such a way that the person you love feels free.”
Falling, but standing up tall. So tall.
Lady Gaga and cuckoo bananas,
wide-eyed and curious and determined still.
Still. Still me. Still all those cracks and fixes.
All of me with pieces and parts of you.
Beyond where I once used to be.


Otherwise inconsequential dances tell tales,
maybe realities yet unseen.
What's it to you? What's it to me?
Everything and nothing and something
really something.
Even life changing. Could be.

And the goodbyes.
The goodbyes.
Did I tell ya about the goodbyes?
The challenges that change ya.
Elevate you to new and freshened levels.
Demand the most and see you at your best.

Meet you where I'll meet ya,
where we meet and you meet me.
On bridges and edges and the precipice.
Maybe it's not true for every person that beyond fear is freedom,
something bright and blustery
demanding, but not at all.
Out of my depths, and swimming just fine.
I've learned to pace my breathing down here,
to make my own flotation devices.
Roll myself into that ball,
complete and lovely and craving you still.
Filled up beyond the brim.
Thirsty and eating it all up,
bit by bit and each moment,
closer and closer.
Not afraid really, not even a bit.
I'll dance with you, if you want to dance with me.
Right here, right there.
With you, darling, anywhere.
I'll leave it at this,
whatever may come, be it nothing more or more bliss.
All of it and all of you. Lovely you.
Thank you, I mean it. For existence.
For sharing and giving and blood oranges and sweet nothings.

“I hold this to be the highest task of a bond between two people: that each should stand guard over the solitude of the other,” it said.