Humble
I hid
Bricks formed into a patchwork ochre cuboid
The planet
One side in unforgiving chill
And the other
Nauseating dry light
I hid
To avoid a swollen face
And sores on my head
No desire to become an eighties horror victim
To counter the boxed equinox cool
I tanned water
Released refined stimulants
And lactic secretions
The shadows were faded but still shields
Even at their stretched translucent corners
But a spiced wind tricked
And whetted a need for wetness
Plastic clashed and rolled
On the seared and warped laminate
Toes thumped
A T-Rex charge
To the kitchen
We, however, spoke of banal
Boring, grown up tediousness
Spent leaves rustled in black
A stained spoon
Rattled and ricocheted
To bleed on steel
My weathered pale lips pressed
And did a series of tiny sips
In the shrunken extension
I reengaged the exchange
And contrived
A blueprint for the next 168 hours
Then IT happened
I felt flesh tickle
On his palms and patellas.
Just in plain white pants.
One peck.
On top of my right foot.
"What are you doing?"
"You told me. That in some
Places people kiss each
Others feet to show them.
That.
They love them.
And.
I.
I LOVE YOU."
My chest felt hollow
And my legs felt magnetised
Consecrated by a toddler
I hesitated mid inhalation
And descended to pray
A spine formed a low bridge
As I kissed both of his soft feet
Twice
It was one of the greatest gifts I ever received
All I could say was
"Thank You"
I squeezed his
Naked chest
I was washed by a lobster pigment
And in three seconds a blink away from a tear
Copyright © Zack Dicks | Year Posted 2016
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