it´s the icing on the cake
it´s the details of the weekend you left out by mistake
it´s the frills on panties
strings on a violin
it´s the flavor of soap you were forced to eat
and it hasn´t happened since.
a child´s pitch scream
at a baseball game
it´s honey instead of syrup
on a sacred sunday morning
it´s the holes in the jeans
after wearing and tearing
wearing and tearing
toughened flesh, weaknesses
a little daring, overly caring
it´s overbearing
it´s the best and it´s the worst
black and white, sun and moon
it´s in the stories that we hope are told after
we die