I am from…

I am from an unanswered question of the imagination of a young child who, is just as content to wonder and form many answers to his ponder, then here one fact to end all possibilities.

I am from tattered lace that used to cover the hands of princesses as prices brushed them with their blossom bruised lips.

I am from my mother’s heart and my fathers soul.

I am from the glitter left on a pillow after dreamy talk to a strangers eyes.

I am from rusty tin boxes that have held many secrets in the squeaking of their hinges.

I am from the trembling of thin ankles.

I am from the dust filled velvet curtains of the theater, holding many stories to be told.

I am from the watery depths…. I am from my death.

I am from the middle of a horse’s eye.

I am from the mangy coat of a hyena.

I am from forts build to live a dream with in.

I am from the emotions of a myth.

I am from everything else you have ever known.

I am from stale breath on smiling lips, the morning after a night ware ones tooth bush was secondary.

I am from holy shoes placed on an alter to dancing.

I am from sticky eye lashes mashed together with black stand tears.

I am from the vibrating of cat bones.

I am from the nest of the black widows who lived in the wigs of aristocrats.

I am from the touch your finger gives a red velvet coach.

I am from the aftermath of a rager…. a party that tour open the ceiling to let the crowd flood out to the fresh air. The empty bottles, the torn posters, the spilt feelings, the muddy foot prints of the streets and the paper bags crumpled in wrinkles of age discarded by the youth.

I am from the inside of your locket.

I am from jet lag

I am from desire

I am from love

I am made of love

Raton Rose

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