The Phyrgian King and I.

You can be raw, and real.
You really can.
Open, vigilant, vulnerable.
All these things and more, truly
Within your grasp.
As accessible as a bumbleberry.
Yet, you make things so difficult,
So difficult for yourself and for me,
Branches bending and standing,
Water tiding and receding.
This dance is only as necessary,
Only as necessary as you make it.
If I were to cut through your ways,
You would only be confused.
To you, confusion is fear.
To me fear is not meant to last.
And neither were we, apparently.


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