if it happens
in funny ways
i linger, after the splat
for a moment or two
i can feel if am bleeding
and where
are we poems
of consciousness collected
i suppose love's roses
pose the greatest
metaphor
between how we bloom
and how we care
to guard how we grow
some lessons are blessings
taking longer than others
to reveal themselves
mothers always know
to lens us feel
even if too they're
a neurodivergent angel
who sews buttons
and things onto what life
is meant to be held
and sung as
in a poem
we marvel how
movement clings
to our soul aglow
this poem dances too
into your eyes
loam waiting to
warm daylight
where we marvel how
morning sun gets caught
in your raven hair
EJR ©
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