Completely awake, without qualms
Yet halfway to lovelessness
Pure unlike the trying music
And clear as an inkless bell
While they are striped with accidental brambles, thickets, and other cruel beauties
As I once was

Then, petrified by black and white film,
Tasting not salt nor sugar but ambivalence
Now, I remember how the foreign world rippled
The mountains shifted- they stood still
There were questions in the seafoam until
Thunder shook its pattern

However much I long to say,
Embrace me; forget the day
My mother reminds me that I am
Blossoming, young, omnipresent
With shields of sun and pieces of moon
Visible in my eyes
Which tell the mirror,
She is of age, but she is not of age

-c.j.