relationally speaking.

Going up and going down;

The sun always does it.

And so do we.

I cannot help but hope.

I cannot help but anticipate the 

Rise and warmth of solid

Rays seeping into two

Souls at once happy.

 

Remember that swing?

It hangs still from the black tree in our yard.

What I would give to weigh its branches

Down with my body;

Cold breeze raising bumps,

Reminding me to feel.

 

Ah to feel;

But I'd rather not.

Everyone knows

How I've fought

To quiet the fragments of

Heart that come out of my eyes,

My mouth,

Myself.

 

And here is the sun,

And here are we:

Re-learning to smile,

Remembering to be.