when i see your face, speckled, an apple varnish brows burrowed deep into your subconscious
you say this is left field, my feelings. misgivings.
you say I’m making it look easy, the road most traveled, the flow downstream – easy
like going downhill after an arduous hike
but you don’t remember my struggles
the trek up the triple black diamond trail
muscles strained push against the currants
blooded & black – wounds in various states of healing
when will it stop? I thought often.
i sit. for a moment.
and let you speak. because me? I hurt many monsoons ago.