A momentary mingling.

I turn my head thinking the clock reads 7:77pm - a trick of the eye gate.The temperature sits comfortably at 77 degrees and the time actually reads 7:07. The wood grain of my old Toyota is scratched and worn and I start to recall every tick and nick on the body of this dashboard. I sway into nostalgia for a time not too long ago when the smile on my face was of a permanent hue at the thought of your name … it’s a wonder how a few words can make wild what was once tame. In my heart lives a tenderness for those I’ve loved true, names I’ve called while in this very car and the stories we’ve told each other. It’s quite a pain to miss what was so fresh and yet a clean slate was what was best. As my fingers trace my rose colored lighter, I wonder what causes the residue to stain the insides of a heart? In all it’s gold and emerald glory, what causes an uproaring of bad blood and an even worse attitude to tear away what is nourishing and holy? I’ll never ever understand. And as I sit, skin balmy under the humid moonlight I waft into another place: a silent innerstsnding, that what once will never be. but what is coming gallops to me, and in a greater form — you will never lose when you shine in the glory of all that you’ve been shown.