The things they’ve seen– The places they’ve been– The hands and Oh! the people they’ve touched

let go and let in.

Mountains of accumulating scars– Memories of forgotten days counting stars– Mistakes years in the making forever etched

in the pulp of my naked hands.

Now forming at my fingertips– Now tracing the plum of new lips– Now paving mazes of foreign roads toward the cliff of some unknown future,

mine.

Catch me still searching for meaning in grains– Catch me still chasing horizons for nothing– Catch me still losing myself in words and in love

over

and over again–