Wednesday, January 12, 2011

sifting

bathed in the skies of my childhood i revist old ground, sift through the remains of innocence. find something precious amidst the rubble.

redemption is a sweet sip and a small rush. a sudden current that signals the end of this and the beginning of that. i reclain small histories, greeting each one by name. content in the knowledge that they can't hurt me anymore.