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 © | Year Posted 2016

Poem

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