Chalk

Violent mismatched compliments.

In the sense that old hand-me-downs
are mismatched. You would never think
the juxtaposition of certain materials
could keep someone so warm.

Unplanned progress outfits are always
the most pragmatic, we never seem to
worry about getting them dirty.

So throw yours on! Run with me
to where the sun doesn’t set anymore,
where we could bask in the overcast,
the warmth of unending wishes.

I always wanted to go away with you.

Our fingertips brush the hazy
line where field meets sky as
we wander. Just as the dandelion puffs
overlay and dance with clouds, we
feel our earth grown dreams belong
above.

We adorn each other with shiny
thoughts and demand the horizon conform
to the present as we blot out whole
mountain ranges with our flowers.

We play hopscotch with our chalk
promises in classic hopscotch fashion;

where no one knows the rules.

Yes, the rain will come and the wash
will roll our words along down
the walk. The sun will keep on setting
on our whimsically calculated day, but
we will still wish.

We will wake and wish and draw the dark
away with new boxes and new rules and
new reasons to play this ageless game.

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