Barefoot, the ground cold but soothing, relaxing, ending.

Through the hurried thought and passages of guilt, in prose I find you.

The macabre ascend from vanilla and pool in crimson.

naked with clothes
they laughed
at my exposure

you reached for me
I surrendered my life in that moment

maddening in its cycle
colors melt together
static hisses

joyous in the torment of the child’s curiosity