now, maybe always

"We don't see things as they are; we see them as we are."
- Anaïs Nin

like featherweight and cottonball
like brass and two left feet
like rudimentary
like hard to please
like language, like song
like a thimbleful of touch
like opera, like epic, like torch song trilogy
like single raindrop on a back woods roof

like daring, like Olympic
like a baby's first step toward a waiting hand
like waterfall on the first edge of rock
like velvet on a cheek, like not even a whisper
like a pocketful of change, like a candy store looming
like thread unraveling from an old forgotten sweater

like now
and maybe
like always

like ice cream in July
like down blanket, like compact heat, like toes touching
like silhouette, like shadow puppet on a far-off wall
like outline, like proper noun, like a vertebrae

like conundrum
like pursuit
like "what if I?" and "what if you?"
like all things bright and beautiful
like corners, the child sucking her thumb, like darkness just a little
like foregone conclusion, like inevitable
like losing direction in the midnight hour

like now
and maybe
like always

like a cold glass of fresh lemonade
like socks needing a wash, like old coupons
like caffeine, like Valrhona chocolate with 80% pure cocoa beans
like a nighttime novel, like leasure, like everything can wait
like hunger
like storehouse reserves
like tight cellophane wrapping
like "I take it back"

like cash
like credit
like savings
like splurging

like don't stop
like let the chips fall where they may
like brick by brick
like letting go and letting fly

like now
and maybe
like always