these days happen. stuck in traffic,
last night you cut the toenail on your right big toe way too short.
now the skin is rubbing raw inside your sock inside your shoe.
some dude in a mercedes benz just cut you of and there’s nothing you can do.
you’re eating an apple, only to find a metaphorical worm.
you’ve gone bird watching, only to find there aren’t any birds
left in the world. Except for penguins
and they don’t even want to be your friends,
which is odd because they are generally portraying in movies
as fairly amiable fun loving creatures.
but you’re not scared, because in you’re back left pocket
you’ve got a baby polar bear.
that will grow up into a relationship
that fights on tuesday nights and makes love on wednesday mornings
that chews gum to pass the time
and shares stories just to read each others minds.
that prefers good old fashioned american ice cream
over that italian gelato s*** any day.
that remembers how to really love you
when the butterflies have all but gone away.
but they never really will ‘cause it’s always in a state of constant crush.
where too much or too many is never quite enough.
it’s like a prima ballerina spinning crazy off her axis
which is falling of it’s grid
which is shutting down all the city’s power.
and when it sleeps together, well, it always wants another hour.
and when it 'sleeps' together, well it wants another two.
and when it eats together, it always tries to share it’s food.
especially french, those are it’s favorite.

it's a beautiful thing organically grown, beautifully blossomed, so leave it alone.
don't try to name it or tame it or blame it or frame it.
just love it and try your best not to break it.