And the truth be told, I have no hold on a single life.
Back to you
Sitting with the dog in a Byron Bay coffee shop because I have nowhere else to go.
Last place I want to be but I have nowhere else to go.
And a fold becomes a crease, becomes a rip, becomes a tear,
And just breaks away.
I break away.
Order a piccolo.
Just can’t upsize anymore.
Excess has runs its course.
It does not work.
Nothing much works anymore.
Sip my cup and the caffeine makes me gag.
Byron makes me gag.
And the wonder that so many seek falls flat on a man looking for peace.
And it’s back to you.
My sons and you.
And I’m crying little salt and sand tears and the washed away surf dribbles from my nose.
Because I wish I could feel what others see.
But I don’t.
Too much excess can create too little joy.
So, it’s back to you.
And the prams of the elite on the Byron sidewalks make shallow noises.
Pitter patter go their shallow hearts.
My shallow heart?
Let it wash in the dirt of the gutter.
Come wallow with me.
Takes me seconds to become lost.
And what I’ve done and how I’ve lived has dug a hole that pictures cannot fill.
What I’ve loved is how I lost,
And the truth be told,
I have no hold on a single life.
Yes, back to you.
And how two souls can meet when all seemed done,
Still makes me smile.
I watch the barista pour a marshmallow choc for another precocious child.
And she waves a magic wand through her perfect curls.
She waves her innocent magic over me.
Her little, toy wand becomes a cloth.
And the cloth wipes away the blackened smudge from my cynical eyes.
Free for a moment and I become the boy.
Man breaks free and sees the light.
Guiding him back to you.
‘C’mon dog. We have somewhere to be.’
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