In my youth I was a child of turbulent times and ungracious wants. Over my head hung the stink of the future that was sure to find a serpentine path of waves and sines, finding me in the present.
I came into understanding. That precious rule that time was ever present and that I was sure to run out of it, I threw my yet un-bolded body to the rocks. Afraid of heights my swagger folded at sea-level, tucking in my arms, looking skyward instead of down to the ground. Rushing up.
Manhood lashed at me like madness. I was unfit for the new skin that I found draped against my shoulders. The weight to much to stand erect, the burden not enough to stop my motion, or mouth.
I exchanged pleasantry. I danced, made merry. Stumbled through.
I gave her away. She so beautiful in that flowing gown of what I’ve made for her. Roses blushed against her skin. The same skin as mine. Her mate has love and life dancing in his eyes. None like mine.
I lay down to eternal. No trumpet cry, no hark of raven’s spread wings. It Ends.