Nothing has ever
nothing has ever been quite this sacred.
nothing has ever had quite this resounding thump when it struck the floor
nothing has ever been spread out across the kitchen table with such an ache of beauty
the sacred bits of your life
tucked into corners
pasted onto vertical walls and horizontal hopes
crouched behind rusted guitars, scratch-scratch old records and rat-a-tat posters
all those places you hide when the rhythm bounces back
when the earth tilts its track, throws you the keys and says drive
when you crave that slight heart-attack from the mere force of being a young one
of being a young one
of being that youth- three trees in your hair, three flowers in the air
a bowl full of strange and wonderful curdling on your windowsill
to the days when rain was long and could wash behind your ears
to the days when your eyes were seeing sculptures- aghast and agape
to the days when piles of thoughts ran telescope and uniform past the ageless formations in your circuits
to the days when revelation was near- so close, so close
a constantly visiting stranger to the household of what you were beginning to take hold of
nothing has ever been quite that sacred.
nothing re-writes itself to the tune of that beauty.
no one holds my hand with quite that firm of a grasp
time plays tricks- coils around my ears, my eyes, my desire, my despair
time leaves me here, again and again.
time comes back
and nearer and nearer and nearer.
Lauren Suchenski hails from Princeton, NJ, and adores words in a thousand shapes and sizes. As a poet, ballet dancer, actress, photographer, painter, mother and Waldorf educator, Lauren believes in the inherent creative capability within all people. She is always grateful for the opportunity to swim inside of syllables. You can find more of her poetry at @_laurel_hill on Instagram.