Light for my fingertips,
outside the night,
a bright white glow
and a
blue white hue.

How have you been?

Why can't you make it work?
Your body stayed so nice and
your eyes still
so green.

Yet nada is nigh.

How strange it would feel to count the rings
around your spine after all these revolutions round
the
sun.

You're still so much surface,
you never plumbed the depths like
I hoped you would.
You're a bramble
pricked onto
pantleg -
still in the mix
still around.

Come for the ride,
stay for the potential.

Tonight I challenged myself to say something uplifting.

How'd I do?