Now who was this poem written about? I wonder…
A page from a chapter in my life. One which evidentally had an impact on my loins at the time, yet fails my memory in the present.
I’ve been writing my own story since I was 11. Personal growth is a fascinating subject to observe and document. Even when the spaces between remain unseen.
I have become fairly adept in the art of mindfulness, and have learned how to calm the physical and emotional symptoms of my anxieties.
Blank spots in my history continue to remind me of how important it is to remain rooted and steadfast in the present. How crucial it is to be aware of every waking moment, every sensation, every stimulation of the soul, the lips, the tongue, the eyes, the contours and curves of my body.
Every scent, and every taste.
Savour it. The present moment is only lived once.
Whimsical Wordsmith 