Practice Makes Perfect
And Perfect Things Never Die
If practice makes perfect
Then I’d like to perfect you.
Dip my toes in the water,
And see if your currents run true.
I’ve never been good at hobbies.
Pick one up and put it aside.
The cello, piano, knitting, art,
Putting them down to save my pride.
But you are a wave of good feelings,
A breeze in the summer,
The first drops of warm spring rain,
The comforting roll of thunder.
So I pick up the bow,
I finger your strings
I try to write a symphony
Rolling through chords and things.
You vibrate under my hands
You sing to me your truth
Soaking into my soul
A bathtub of gin and vermouth.
Loving you was intrinsic.
Nothing I could ever put the brakes on.
Careening drunk down deserted roads
Belting out our swan song.
Spinning in the smoke,
Drinking up the liquor.
Finding ways to make each other,
Breathe a little quicker.
So when the dawn peeks in on us
And our sweat has dried
To crystals shining in the sunlight
We can both smile knowing,
Fear,
Has,
Died.
About the Creator
Paige Graffunder
Paige is a published author and a cannabis industry professional in Seattle. She is also a contributor to several local publications around the city, focused on interpersonal interactions, poetry, and social commentary.
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