Adventures in becoming gentler
and gentler, shed those skins
through the pileup of days,
chapters stacked and we revel
in the tender flesh we were
many times cautioned to armor,
press the photo of a man whose
teeth left scar tissue to my
lips then set him free, billowing
in the wake of that wanting,
goodbye, goodbye, goodbye, I
traded my dagger for dancing,
morning coffee in lieu of the
vodka soda bloodstained by
cranberry.
Relentless are the barricades
along the parade route, but
breathe with me, I know
the way, when we arrive,
we all kiss, we hug at the
miracle, our arrival, and
the joy is a sun-soaked blur,
every year, we are more us,
you know the stories I will tell
so you sing along to the
best parts, our becoming
akin to an unmasking, we,
the children who hid beneath
the cloaks of stoic gods.
At the train tracks, I
give voice to a pigeon pacing,
well, hello there, he the
wizened admiral, esteemed and
long-stationed, you giggle
along and fall in love with
me today, so my lips
stamp your forehead, we
would have played together
as children, inventing
the adventure, and always,
yes, always becoming.
michael king 