~rites of Lost Passage~

i) It might have been funny if pubescent glass hadn’t irritated. You know how it rides below metronome mono-symbolic sighs like currents you can’t see, sanding all the harshness. ii) I waited for maturity to smooth you, make you grasp at those memories blown into childhood, where fingers were made to share. iii) You couldn’t walk above simplicity without growing weak, asphyxiation just seemed logical whenever promises were required or broken, and yet, I still revived you. iv) When my tongue faltered, caught behind experience all you could do was meld to a yesterday when I was opaque.