Imagine a meeting in the flesh
not as you are now,
but how you appeared back then
to the time of peer pressure
equivalent to standing on a precipice,
cracking beneath a hot, angry fissure
a time of unwanted leisure

He was there,
standing with his back to the wall
waiting to make his exit
this was not his game
already pegged as strange
objects exploding all around him
heading for a predetermined fall

Drawing lots is a fool’s game
when one already knows the eventual outcome
its easy to walk away from this
there's the door over there
with the hulking presence of authority
breathing down your neck
undressing you with coal black eyes
hoping to exploit perceived weakness

Disarming them all
with a saccharine smile
running around that corner
to an open doorway
beckoning with sunlight, wispy clouds
and the attention span
of a sugar spun child

Late December
when did it pass?
receded to the back recesses
fading in the forgotten smoke
this spell quite broken
with the frailty of despair
yet, I remembered you

mathiasthom
written 12/27/09