there's lines on my face, and I hope you can see them too

A breezy night listening to a piano instrumental of Colorblind.

I was a bloom on the first kiss,
My soul was more child-like than now.
Let me recount things you missed.

In spite of traps and chains of opium bliss
I sniffed out wolves quick
but I hesitated
  I fell sick
I kissed holy books
I forgot how I looked.

Those stories carved my face
lines of memories I keep
even if only briefly sweet
―even, bittersweet.

I've been busy building beautiful things,
I touch musical notes with integrity
and write of darkness with a little bit of
   hope and clarity.

I've achieved sovereignty
it's taken more than I can paint
but I've earned my place
and I create 

  I leave space
  just enough
  for effort
  for depth
  for presence
  and rest.

A moment?

Yes.