Odd Observations from a Skewed Perspective

Follow suit. Especially bathing suits.

Fairy tales are uncommon.

If I’ve lost a shoe, I’ve had one too many.

But every so often, under the proverbial  blue moon, I’m seen.

I do not exist in a label. I can be free in my skin. I can let my laugh ring unfettered in the eyes of the loved. I can believe in happy endings, bubbles of joy, and true romance. Songs and seranades, tools of the bard, can spill from lips like bright wine and licked gleefully by an audience.

Why, and why, and why again? What questions are necessary in the nexus of the moment? Do we allow the pinprick of reality fracture a soap bubble existence just to know why?

Transient as steam in the midafternoon breeze, such things are to be savored, felt, devoured with kisses and laughter.

Save the questions for the day after, or the day after next. Ponder and wonder what discrepancies live between waking and dreaming and that daring limbo in between. There will be time enough for truth.

For now, I breathe and I see. Even if it is a fairy tale.

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