Thursday, January 19, 2017

Dorcy

Knox is slow with how he enters the room, almost tripping over the bottle
that rests along the bottom of the wall, some chocolate milk still left.
Darcy slung it off the couch this morning, wanting her sleep sack off.
I hope Darcy didn't wake him.

He walks to her, “Hey Dorcy” 
looks to me and grins, says “Dorcy” again.
I smirk at him, “Dorcy?”
Knox loses it
takes a full minute to stop laughing.

Knox
you’ve become so whimsical.
I’ve enjoyed seeing you come into your own individual self 
that only Knox Rucker can inhabit.

Yesterday, we were up there on the barstools
you were drinking some of my “fizzy drink”
it popped on your tongue and you looked at me with a smile.
And I had this moment, one I’ve been experiencing a lot lately
I felt myself become you
almost like I felt your aura wrap around me
and teeter me into your world
with your free and mammoth imagination 
coating me.