A coming of age
No rituals
As far as we could see
Just gifts and tension
Anxiety and the largest small talk
Orbiting what rests snugly below
Rotating
And gently revealing itself through reflected
Luminescence
Your presence
Permanently tattoos the field
Paradigms are shifted
Belief Systems fall
The tattoo remains
Branded on our imprinted letterhead
Scorched onto our psyche
Stitched into the uniform of my grey matter
Bright, jagged
Kinetic energy purporting to stay static
The gesture emphatic
Majesterially splendid
And yet so modest in their
Lack of malice
No rituals
But raise a chalice
Raise a gourd
Break a barrel
Break Bread and grow
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