one-track mind.

most of the time i find myself trying to batter my brain with weird thoughts; i shutter to think who i'd be if i'd remained two-dimensional when my cries met first air. but now i'm coming to find that the one-track mind i'd always side-stepped might be where i'm heading.

four months & 24 hours ago my lips lost their pair & my heart lost its match & my fingers lost their ten they'd held. four months & 24 hours ago i started a new path that meant my fingers would have to hold themselves & wonder where their match had gone to. four months & 24 hours ago i blazed my old life & left the love that had kept me warm the three years past.

these four months have meant adventure; i have seen & met more of southern colorado than i'd ever imagined possible in a summer. i've swam, i've camped, i've run, i've biked, i've climbed, i've jumped, i've driven, i've soaked.

these four months have meant independence; my lonely hands have been in the world without their ten best & they had to learn to be contented alone. i've met, i've made, i've created, i've baked, i've explored, i've danced, i've been whole in myself.

these four months have meant discovery; i've found new depths and widths of who i've made. i've grown, i've grieved, i've ached, i've laughed, i've melted, i've longed, i've loved.

but these four months showed me that all the adventure, all the independence, all the discovery don't taste as sweet as the love made by those ten fingers & two lips & one heart i lost four months & 24 hours ago.

brother & his love made me remember the best i'd shared with those adored fingers and blessed lips and sacred heart. it made me remember what it was like to be one-track minded when those were all i'd dream & need, when those were my world & we made each day neat. they made me remember all of the road trips we've been on, & all the moments you & i made (mosquito hells & desert suns & the like). they made me remember how much i love teasing grins out of those two lips and holding those ten fingers while we watch the fire die. they made me remember the taste of our sweet companionship, and i can't shake the aftertaste.

i want to ask you for glasses of water when you get up while we watch movies together. i want you to make me mad by telling me how slow i am. i want us to fall again & never get back up. these four months & 24 hours i hope won't grow long; my fingers & lips & heart want their pair. before i always needed you, but now you're all i want. i want to let my mind to be one-track and for you to be the only song it plays.

now i think our hands can roam but at nightfall they'll be linked if you let them; my ten have already learned yours are the only ones that fit.