Myr

So long

So far

Up high

The roads we travelled seem so thrilling in the rearview mirror.

We can laugh at what we’ve been, because of what we’ve become.

Back when we couldn’t see where we’d go through the windshield out front,

You couldn’t follow your own footsteps on the path to be queer.

Licked are the wounds, manifested in scar tissue and dreams.

You outgrew your shoes and stepped out of bounds of the imaginary.

One tight grip on the wheel, one hand playfully spinning reality

Between your fingers where the wrinkles of age are hiding the seams.

This far

So much

For good