BECOMING EXQUISITE
My mirror shows me what I've become. Not so much the crevasses and the flaps but more the imaginary time lapse stream reminding me of the terrain covered so far. It's a spectacular view from the top, where I need look no further than her hand touching me to explain the perfection. I promised her a life filled with joy and affection everyday, the stud muffin came included. The top is also a threshold, opening to a place where finessing thru the rapids needs alot of steadiness and durability to back bone the ride, where the water spray in your face and the sweet smell of the rain forest is equaled without ever leaving your spot.
The sign that the situation is being handled and it ends up here just means so far, so good. The quick-read is all OK.
I used to be a contender but now I aim the board of life towards the gleaming. It always takes me in to the right place and sorrow and remorse are like two toenails with polished chipped off. The issue's not whether to repaint them but what color? This is from a guy who learned all about motorboat when most kids his age were happy to just eat dirt. Then there was windshield wiper, man was that a breakthrough. I never let go, as one does when the getting's right. Pip effing pip.
The answer, my friend, is NOT blowing in the wind - - think mountain top where reality is what you say it is. It's May, I'm stylish and this cancer, CBD, non-jizz transformation is almost complete, so I wrote about it.