Age is definable but never still–
we try to hold it back, but still
our age continues to rise
We linger in the still dreams lost
ages ago, unable to move on,
still refiguring the past
Must we always be aging children?
still youthful to our inner mirror, but
aged into bitters
Into a stillness of chimeric eternity,
searching for an ageless portal
stilled beyond time
Day 21 of NaPoWriMo asks for repetition. I’m not sure this is exactly what they had in mind, but it’s where I ended up.