Let’s be like magnets.
The good kind of magnets.
The kind that want each other.
Even if it’s not forever.
Even if something or someone temporarily tears them apart.
The way we used to when we were small.
Remember how they found their way back.
They allowed, they followed, they didn’t fight the pull.
We could do the same. We could feel the pull.
We could be the pull.
Let’s get weird together.
The weirder the better.
Wonderfully wacky and whimsically bizarre
as we play in the often off-limits.
You know, the way we used to,
before they shamed us and stripped us, painted us vanilla.
Today I stood over an open garbage pile for several minutes
and reveled in the sweet nostalgic scent of a bologna sandwich on white bread.
I couldn’t wait to tell you about it.
We could remember how to do this. We could remember because it’s easy.
We could live out loud.
Let’s have a conversation.
Not just any conversation.
A conversation full of inquiry, exploration, mystery.
One that we used to have, only after smoking, under the stars,
on the deck, after everyone else had closed their eyes to the night.
Those stoned conversations.
We could have them now.
We could have them sober.
Let’s live in a different place.
A place that is human, a place that is intimate,
a place that is fully our own.
A place that supports the uncomfortable, gives way for the ugly,
calls out the awkward, invites the itchy.
And then holds it all in a loving embrace.
Oh how we used to run from it, at full speed,
in the direction of all our noxious toys.
There is a sign hanging in an outdoor room of beauty that says
“Let Real Things Happen To You.”
We could do that.
We could live there.
Let’s meet in another realm.
A realm where dreams are not dreams but truths.
A realm where magic is the rule and not the exception.
A realm where anything can happen, will happen, does happen.
We used to occupy this realm, way back before you were you and I was me.
It’s still there. It’s waiting for us in every moment, waiting for our return.
We could be there.
We could be out there in the ether.
We are the ether.
Let’s be real with each other.
Like elephant literary journal on Facebook.
Assistant Ed: Gabriela Magana/Ed: Bryonie Wise
hot on elephant
July’s Full Moon in Capricorn: The Heart wants what it Wants. The 4 Stages of a Good Divorce. A Letter to my Children: You do not come from a Broken Home. Our Soulmates are Rarely Who We Expect. Men, Let’s Stop Fooling Ourselves: Size Matters. To the One Who Tried to Break Me. Mom, can I Call her Mom, Too? An Open Letter to the Fixers. How your Stored Memories in the Amygdala can lead to PTSD. Jon Stewart makes first appearance since retiring—”it’s not your country.”