Notion

The summer squirt guns, in the hands of tiny children
makes me reminiscent of
the loving woman that floods my mind.

Our life seems to hop over each other like
Chinese checkers, up and down,
an emotional heartbeat knocking the self unconscious.

It’s the innocence of youth that keeps us apart,
whether it is in
an age, the start of a new relationship, or the lack of knowledge

we still stand still, quiet, unable to open vaults that lead one another
into the safety of trust.

Although issues scream of precedence, a desperate prayer for
temptation and suspect feelings to guide us to depths of defeat.

We’re like ghost orchids, deep in the swamps of devotion.