Do you feel your head unspooling into the universe?
The strings are fraying at the edges,
irreparably stained with the stardust at the ends
Of the many worlds you stretch across.
Do you feel your tight-stitched, needle-sharp, double-knotted
Child's brain falling up, up into the
Twilight, into heaven's most beautiful
Graveyard, where all the other radiant little minds go to wait?
You can never rewind.
You can never un-grow up.
The cardigan that my grandma wraps me in when I am cold;
Dusty piles of cards from someone who loves me;
Computer overheating with a two-thousand-million-word PDF scrapbook;
When I was a little younger than I am now,
I went home after school and wrote until bedtime.
That was enough to take me into the stratosphere.
I'd play in the cloud for hours and hours.
I will tell you what I remember from high school, and I will tell you how you can follow in my sinful and lowly footsteps, that your blood might be as holy as mine.
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