The Story of the Story (Post 100)

This is my one-hundredth post! Here’s a found poem taken from a variety of my previous posts:

 

The Story of the Story

 

I’m your navigator,

I earned these shades of green;

not ever quite clean, but working hard.

 

Let’s boomerang, this wide world over,

and inhale the damp,

timeless spaceless wonder

of freedom, clean sheets and paper

and my pocket-lint too.

 

A single moment of clarity comes to me.

(in the silvery, slivery light):

live within the story of the story, never-ending.

 

Wait, for hours that become infinite years full of expectation,

posing for a perpetual family portrait,

on cracked up concrete.

 

Unsure to what I’m counting down,

a vast space of bars separates

the unremarkable and unforgettable thing.

 

If you’re a word, it’s nameless:

my magic hour, my favorite place in time,

a burning hot ember within.

The depths aren’t scary if we swim alongside.

We can love each other long enough

to be on the same side of the lake.

 

Don’t you want to climb up into that sky?

Now it’s nighttime again,

I’m not going to say goodnight, nor yet goodbye.

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