not yet a man

We hold with reverence nostalgias of better times,
when the dance of wings,
let me loose to glide,
to wind my way around the sound of your chimes,
and make music with you;
heartsongs yielded, definitions defied.

But worlds apart,
we respect each other from different sides.
I chose the sky, you the earth,
each rooted in mirrored worlds of opposition.
One solid, one far less confined.
I, colored by the sun's gold,
you, by a crimson composition...

And now that Im back
I feel so see through,
naked to eyes that know mine well.
Cheapened by lack of mystery,
and without novelty, just history,
I am bound by you, desperate,
compelled to be special to you,
darkened belle.

There's a thousand moments in chalk,
each frame made a memorial of the day.
They're still right here,
faded thoughts decorating the sidewalk,
threatening to disappear.
And retracing my steps along this way,
I'm reminded of how much fun we had,
when your colors came to play.

For this is the motion picture of my childhood.
This is the heart of me, the first chapter.
Back when the whole world was our neighborhood,
and we dreamed of a far more beautiful
"ever after."