I still dream of clouds as picture-stills representing God’s artistry. I still see the sun glimmer in the eyes of someone whose pain resonates with mine. I still prefer the touch of a man who desires the candor and ease of just being around me, to the taste of men who kiss me to engulf me. I still like gusts of wind in my face. I still blossom like a flower from the sun on my skin. I still listen to my music loud as the reverb of my heart to hush my soul. I still think and process before I open my mouth, but allow laughs to escape my throat without regard. I still share that love for that one place we went together, years ago where the sweets were too much for my sensitive teeth to handle, but i still lapped it all up because you can’t pause anything when the universe is trying to translate the simplicity of “Adventure Time” into a soul-imprint. I still indulge in run-on sentences, despite years of dropping A’s to B’s on school paper’s because of this beautiful habit. I still do not care about language constraints, just expression. I am still me. i am still me but without the additives. and that’s nice to know that after you dredge and slough - shed and slither back into your body that the pleasantness of your skin still feels like home.