03 October 2012

time irreverent

different depths of the lung
how it climbs
dear god brother
in the twisted knots of our years
lets wear our hair
dreadlocked and loud
we are all of our ingredients
your children will be all of theirs
let's clean the halls of our youth
with similarly greasy hands
I can't undo
time and what it took
or the arms length gasp of breath
as I released myself into
the sharpest edges of the truth
I remember fig trees
the smell of them
and the chunk of skin
missing between your toes
I was 7
years old
just as I am

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