Reaching My Guts
He stood up
So I could be helped;
Younger in life,
Sharp minded,
Hilarious
Summer boyish.
A chair
He moved
In order to reach
The missing piece
Of loose fabric.
The fear of falling
Came crossing
Both our minds.
Instinct.
Life made me an animal
After a while.
My left arm tenderly
Pressed
Against his belly,
Holding him
From a messy
Disastrous
Fall.
His breath.
Breathing rapidly
Into my face
Surrounded by
Frightening doubts,
Green lighting,
Eyes crossing fast,
Forced laughter…
And a body
Made of sin,
A mind made of depth,
And eyes that, even though
Met mine
Fewer times
Than I expected,
Expressed to me
What my mind
Had sinned a long way back.
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