Saturday, April 12, 2014

Poetry Project, day 12

And just like that, tan lines are a thing again.
The sun is on my skin again,
and I need to wear a hat again
and being outside matters.

I forgot what all of this was like,
what lost in the air feels like,
what new and nice and light tastes like.
A car backfires, people exclaim.

But some things are always the same;
serendipitous buzzing surrounds the same,
my sunny self loves the same,
and the uncomfortable tug never leaves.

But that's probably for the best,
to never rest,
and be a pest,
refine and zest,
close to my chest,
the ongoing quest,
to be there and not there at once.

So I guess I'm on the way again,
to somewhere unknown and neat again,
wouldn't that be such a treat again,
I can only hope I don't get things wrong.

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