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Apr 2019 · 84
It'll pass, bug
zenko Apr 2019
Blinds that are lifting
A burrito with extra guac
Socks coming off after a long hike
Mom's smile upon homecoming
A glass of wine after a long day
A long **** after holding it in

Things go from meh to better

Your hangover
Will, too, die
Apr 2019 · 69
Elasticity.
zenko Apr 2019
Day 1
Stretch stretch stretch.  All day I stretch!  STRETCH UNTIL  DEATH!

Day 2
New length, discovering something new.  Holding a new pose.
But sometimes the stretching hurts and I don’t like the way it feels.

Day 3
Hello, you!  We met and now I don’t feel like I must stretch too much…  I feel calm in this new feeling.
The stretching slows and I’m settling in here, in this place that feels like home.

Day 4
But how can this feel like home when I’m used to a home on a bed of constant vibrations?
I’m not sure.  This home could be mine forever, but is it the home I want?

Day 5
I must leave this home.  I must try to bend and stretch again to see if I like a new destination.

Day 6
I miss my old home, the home of love and peace and unity.

Day 7
I want to come home.  Or, maybe a similar home as before, but a little different.
Maybe the home will have a new door, a door that lets a new breeze in every now and again, shifting our position.
But, it is still the same home… the home that I love.
Apr 2019 · 123
Just checkin
zenko Apr 2019
It is a sea of greens and reds and yellows
I am here
It’d be bizarre if you were here
Yet

I look around to find your eyes
Your smile
Your nose
Your goofy chin

You aren’t around
I was just checkin to see
If I even wanted to see
If you were here

— The End —