N. C. Wyeth l, Odysseus and Penelope Reunited, 1929

I skipped moon rocks across the surface of space hoping to hit your window and wake you up. You gave me rowboat kisses on Mars, I slipped overboard and drifted in a daze along the Milky Way. I’ve been lost ever since you found me. Hypnotized by your lips and the way you grab my hips. Want was never something I wore until you dressed me.

I feel wholly holy, chest crossed and heart open. On the back of flame or flood, I fly to heaven. Morning come, sawdust sun, shake it off and show the earnings of His work. Humbled me something serious, filled me with something silly. Hit me with serene waves of sweetness, teaching me how to backstroke along a current I used to swim against.

This is easy. Sunday morning and Monday night. Peaceful and productive. Heavy like feather feelings and light like the tightness in my chest when you are leaving and I think of that closing door never opening again.

Come back every time knowing you are welcomed and wanted. Favored and fondly held. Patience of Penelope, treat this odyssey like Odysseus. Browse that romance for a timely read.

Dali left his melted clock on my mind last time I paid him a visit. He taught me the device doesn’t tell time, it keeps track of it. I haven’t run in its race ever since. Now I walk facing cool breezes to submerge myself in oceans of bliss. Sit in silence, close my eyes, and make a melody from the pattern in my pulse. Still learning the words to my inner hymn, I hum along to the beat of my happiness. When I know the words, I’ll teach you how to sing along.

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