...without leverage...

There is mystery that lives within memories, they teach us to develop keener senses
To explore soft meanderings down pathways that branched off and away from all we never knew
What more in life can we say has pleasured us beyond the marriage of body & soul?
It is within ourselves that the finest match be made; to take what we have known into refinement.

I clambor in thought, freed from yesterday
In time I fell away from such deeply-rooted attachment
To linger in the arms of memory must be done in slight moderation
I grow weak with the faint reminders of aged caress.

There was a time when 'wild' made the most sense
When the fusion of who we were demanded we become Generals to the army of our bodies
A new machine in my youth, strong in my motion,
Yet lacking in wisdom; of course, that is the very Nature of the Beast.

Think not to assume that in wandering away from such reality, you'd be remiss
For understanding who we were within the birth of 'responsibility' we are akin to many things
I see my shadowed actions from that time and long to console my own haste
Lift free from that past, all the dreaded hope I followed, kissing still- the hope for others.

In twenty years time I have developed keen sense to memory and the well-oiled muscle of wisdom
On the brink of 40, I find rapture in everything that eludes me
For I have come to understand a new beast, the nature of which is ever-so-slight and yet-
Yields power unlike any other...

Tomorrow is a vague mystery, I rest the night prior in the event I may earn its subtle awareness.
I am aging in a way that I find love among my own humanity and rest within that freedom
Contained are the many voices of want & need, aching to be relieved within their confinement-
They stand tall without tilt; virile and 'conditioned'.

I am kept at bay for many damn good reasons, responsibility at the forefront.
I played hard in my beginning, well aware that actions invoke many-layered consequences.
I'd give nothing to trade my time already spent, for the visceral memories that yet excite & ejaculate
Reverberating for years on end; in infamy, love and quiet consolation.

It is that very yesterday, filled with buxom love and unrelenting forces
That granted me the tools to inhale and discover every elusive answer to be milked
From tissue that bowed and stretched and even, ever-balked without tearing.
I have conformed to all range of emotion and fell back in line with the need to continue, unbroken.

Uncertainty; archaic and unwanted. I take the hand of all I am yet to encounter
Firm, with a grip that I am willing to toil to great length to gain control of, for I have had my fun
Youth was meant to be squandered, exhausted, enraptured and even abused...
Under the moon of immaturity, we gained our hindsight; the very 'trial & error' we now wield.

I march forward with undetectable footsteps, elusive as the honeybee's wish to go uninterrupted
The pollination of my own dreams shall reveal themselves when articulation seeks a presence; Known.
The Cosmos may demand in its own voluminous understanding, that all 'quality' coasts
Relaxed in its own omniscience.

I am but a laborer of my own understanding, to be thrown askew of that concept-
Detrimental. I write to reiterate to myself, all that I understand and on a daily basis- metamorphosis
Rolling with the punches has never been made more easy than to give slack where it is due.
Understanding is transient in its meaning, conforming to that alone? The very point in life.

Falling victim to the beguilement of our own arrogance and ego is a foolish face-plant
We are older now and though the lustre of years has conditioned us to 'know better'
'Best ye have it within ye, to remain childlike in the affliction of love'
For to love when love burns brightest is to also roam free from the fear of all that ends.

Love without risk is pointless... A dam without leverage seeks nothing
And so it remains futile... weightless... dead.
I wish to come alive in my own understanding; and so I shall
Set free from all boundary that once held meaning and now- holds nothing.

Gentle is the wind that floats about naked shoulders, aware of its unclothed state and still smiling
Free from the tyranny of society and the break from all that that implies...