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| Yes...we're gambling! |
We’ve only our hearts to guide us this day,
where once we were more form than substance
now some kind of strange piñata
now some kind of strange piñata
the bones of us covered in paste, held as body by crepe paper.
But no matter all that. Our hearts have GROWN
in equal measure to our deterioration and they have become
the governing force.
It is our hearts that beat us through those daily walks
to grease what’s left of our bitching joints.
Beneath these sagging breasts
beats the warrior child, the gator’s jaw
beats the warrior child, the gator’s jaw
fighting for
releasing not
all that remains. We will
releasing not
all that remains. We will
reach for our face to face moments...
two old souls, coming ‘round to a new innocence.
Our playground awaits.
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