No on can know

It can be fun to obsess about something that sails your soul between pre-teen east and a pubescent west. Simpler. Safer. Sound-senility. When you fussed over things that made you feel the magic explode from the core of a happy chakra…

No one could know then…

…and things are not so different now.

Getting older often means missing the web of light rush across your fingertips and through your veins. Sparkly. Shiny. Satin-like. Why the rush? Why the constant push? Who said getting old was about getting there first? Head bowed, we say nothing about our secrets and press on…

Because no one could know then…

…and things are not so different now.

You deserve what you find in the peaks and valleys on the journey across your fingerprint. You should celebrate the essence that you sentence to the rhythm of the underground-flow. It’s been fun to obsess about something that made me feel that tuned-in again…

But no one can know…

…so things are not so different now.

Secret

© Dylan Balkind

 

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