Forevermore the Child

What if it’s all about the scenes in your head, what if who you’re meant to be • you already are.

What if it’s about your breathlessness as you hear the notes of this song, the strings caressing your skin, you become the violin.

Your fingertips mesmerized by paint, you diffuse into your own skin, your whole being.

What if you’re your own liberty, right below your fingertips, on any medium you found yourself to be.

What if you’re not one, but all and what if it’s time, what if child, your time has come.

All those frames becoming one in my head, there may have been no camera but I directed them all.

Performing rituals. One after another. The ritual of my own becoming, the ritual of meness.

My lungs breathe free, facing all those frames that they thought was uncaptured. I captured them all, never once I let go holding her hand and she and I, we grew our tentacles evermore.

What if we all become the child that we first were. What if we all knew who we were then, then and forevermore.