Saturday, July 5, 2014

Stumble

Laying in the grass,
my head on your belly,
I gaze at the sky.

We talk about what
it means to be
fully alive.

I don't want to merely glide
through conventional motions,
I say as I watch a heart-shaped
cloud pass by.

I want to stumble on a
path that is my own,
then rise, slightly bruised,


but better.  

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