I found the fondest memories whilst fiddling with a pencil...
Trying to morph mere doodles into art...a part or a-part of art...
Pain in bold outlines ...happiness in curved lines...they crossed and started to seem that like eyes...not mine though...they had curled eye lashes and a non-raised mole beside one eye..

Awfully familiar ...I've met them before...downward stroke with wrist turning downward if not more to the right...I see a cheek I used to kiss that came with a request to kiss it...whilst embarrassed yet delighted in the honor...

I recall being a lot shorter and looking up to these talking skyscrapers around me that pick me up every chance they get...how could I forget...
These pencil scrubs fade into what seems lips that used to kiss me and tell me that I'm a good boy and that I'll grow taller...wiser and amount to something greater...these lips were the opening to a voice I heard every morning telling me that the day has began and "don't lose your tie at school again"
This page that now bares a tear or to as I'm torn by the taunting agony from the joy that once was...

These lines ...faded with some parts of the page slightly folded...shaded in some parts...bold outlines...steady hand...Be my love...

My mother

If supposed possibilities impose impositions that transition  into probabilities that break boundaries of inequities ...would you stand moved...
If life's low blows could be diluted through finely crafted bitter yet mentally delectable drinks ...would that flood our minds drowning us instead of our worries...
If the oh-so rhythmically bewitching drum based tunes we gyrate to dancing in entrancement...oh the escape...enchantment
Would we loose footing playing "footsy" around the truth of  how we got there and find ourselves lost when the music stops...?

If supposed possibilities impose impositions that transition  into probabilities that break boundaries of inequities ...would you stand moved...
If life's low blows could be diluted through finely crafted bitter yet mentally delectable drinks ...would that flood our minds drowning us instead of our worries...
If the oh-so rhythmically bewitching drum based and synthesized tunes we gyrate to ,dancing in entrancement...the escape being oh-so pleasurable...enchanting the the torn heart(soul)
Would we loose footing playing "footsy" around the truth of  how we got there and find ourselves lost...
when the music stops.

Ebony...
Coco...
Sun-kissed...
A gentle tone of brown that left in in the blue...
Feeling sneaked in...
Creeped in beneath my unsuspecting skin...
Every color seemed brighter...bolder...
Chance or be it fate...?
endorphins combined fused with electrostatics of the mind...
Or a new tune to a previously non rhythmic heart...
At glance the eyes drew the stars nearer...
For no insensible reason the skyline of semi light houses bare song...a rather smooooth velvety song...like silk through every note...
I say and "quote"...
"Leave nothing to chance for that might be fate at first glance"...
Tales long told foretold magic fading with post modern belief...
No fib or tomfoolery...
This at best be...the unmentioned
I dare not use the word in-vain
Best it remain unwritten