041: Hold on to me.

Photo by Jenna Kennedy. Paint/Magazine Collage, Photographed and Edited. 

Hold on to me. I’m like a kid. Been kid-napping. Lovers falling down. Damn it feels good to get close. Swirling around. Did you know I once sculpted you? With mud like clay. 
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Before.
When I was still cheating my way backwards.
I made your eyes big and red. 
All your dark spots red. 
Like I was inhaling your smoke. 
Cough, coughing you out.
So many years ago.
Singing, “I am 16, going on 17.” 
That doesn’t make sense. 
How is realism really real? That's the ego.
I see an old image.
Not young at all. 
Bearded old man, with red freckles on his face. 
This is not ageism. 

Then why is my ice cream melting? 
All over my only red bather.
My only red bather.
Oh mother. 
I miss that smell. 
So much salt. 
Meow. 
I change from a hungry tiger cat to a bluebird in motion.
Flying over all lost skies.
Puzzled clouds where aging roams with us, not against us.
I’m back to young.
Where I tend to forget I’m dreaming.
I’m back with the lost boys.
On pirate ships.
With dirty swords. 
Oh breathing body,
are you really beside me?
Full of gold.
Hold on to me.
Teeth now clenched.
Hold on to me.
Wrinkled fingers and toes.
Hold on to me.
Hold on to me. 
Hold on to me. 
Just a  little longer. 
Awake. 

-Jenna Kennedy

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