for sometimes we give reminders

turns out that intelligence need not review

seventeen syllable words belittle
any adolescent angst and the question we dull wittedly repeat?
why?
you do not ask why
because you understand

this world,
past ones

you conceive a greater understanding and see behind time
(the iron blanket to us seems to fall gracefully against your fingers as you tug)

what else have you to say about time
when magic pulsed behind every ivory eye
for no one can vacillate your claims

you remember those days fondly
scribing the quotes of Persephone while
sneaking peaks at her cleavage
shedding a tear at the amiable words she herself protrudes while you think about the size and shape your bulge should look
on the grand marble statue creating itself in your minds eye...

yes,
i think you a crock of s**t

however

while the flourish of ink and pen dribbled,
a figure in the distance caught your eye
whatever had shifted would be gone by the time
your sight strayed left but

your knowledge and memorization of the thesaurus caused you to conclude
movement represents all that you left behind

a feeling that you detest
one that opens every sore
one that leaves a severe guttural taste in your mouth
but one on which you rely for rushes of inspiration

rest easy, you must, with your swollen grey matter
realize that i am as much of a hypocrite as you
i still ask why and collect jealousy at the base of my cerebellum

you are one of the many untouchables, not to me,
but to everyone

your distance has defined you a scholar, a sublime goal
crossed neatly off of a list and thus...
your distance has left you bearing only one apple
a token of what remains as you

for this is a reminder