Like young skin

You are smooth

Like young skin.

It is this present, separating the two.

Coarse still.

Contained infinitely


You always new.


So í present me as í will and wilt be.

Your grains grew.

Became rough?

Hard to go against.

A backwards shove.

A cat pet the wrong way.

Your backwards glance, surreptitiously noticed.

I told you

I pay attention to your punctution.

Paints dried as fast as grass grew.

But, never as fast as the weather changed.

Everything happened so quickly

In slowness.

Living with punctuated equilibrium ages me in bursts.

The course grain leaves red rubs on skin like indian burns from childhood.

Asked for and still bemoaned.

Like saying: I miss you.

Author: writtencasey

I am fascinated by the scientific endeavor and I read about or engage with those processes as much as possible. I am a compulsive reader and writer. With a background in anthropology and as an arm-chair/backyard scientist, I hope to improve my writing skills and learn about any areas of weakness or misunderstanding in my analytic skills. I am excited to share. Thank you for spending time here. Please reach out if you are so inclined. I'd be excited to hear from you.

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