I am a mess of an enigma, wavy hair and starshine skin. Swimming lost, trying to drown, but gasping in the air. Turning on the lights to cast the sky in shadow. Not knowing if I walk on solid ground or a staircase to the sun. I’d like to go there. To dip my feet in liquid gold and summery waves. To shed the skin that’s held me in for so long and melt into yellow and red. Maybe one day under a rainbow I chased I’ll find it, leading to that flowery freedom. For now I’m stuck under the moon. A cold spreading across the dawn, not quite winking into day. An in-between gray, could go either way, the underbelly of a toadstool and the yawn of a cricket’s wings, chirping into a firefly sky. I want to move on from here, this beautiful, tragic twilight. I want to move into orange hues stop dancing with disaster. But it takes time, they say. So I think I’ll have to toe these waters for a while, chilling ripples tripping along the surface. It takes time so I guess I’ll take it, and one day, hopefully soon, run.