I remember how we danced in circles without our shoes on. And I remember you didn’t know where to put your hands. I remember you smelled my hair unaware I knew what you were doing. And I remember you wiped your sweaty palms on your best pants.
I remember I moved your hands to the small of my back. And I remember my head on your shoulder; my lips brushed against your ear on purpose. I remember I looked up at your eyes… how I wished you would just kiss me already.
Do you remember how hard I kissed you at the end of that song?
I’ve never understood dancing in circles anyway.
With love to you all,
Sometimes hunger grows teeth. It can bite across the grain, the grooves of life’s patterns. It can take what you think you know and scrape it into shavings, drop it on a rotting floor.
It can leave you feeling warped and weak, fearing you will fall through to something awful underneath, like a new, grotesque form of yourself that is unfinished and raw.
I say let the hunger feed.
Let it whittle, let it chew all of your tough bark away, let it expose the tender pulp inside of you, let it kick-start, let it tend to new growth from within as its sap of new life settles and absorbs your mind.
Hunger for more.
Refuse to fit in.
Be the mismatched colorful chair that shines in the corner refusing to earn its rightful place at the table.
copyright © Kelly Huntson and findingwhatssweet.com 2015-2018. All rights reserved.
Thank you for reading, have a great week!
*originally published Aug. 2016