exoneration

you can savour the moment,
and it will attempt to last.

but sometimes, there is no taste
to be had,
when the blood is drawn
and the feeling intense
and the movement of your neurons
into their little collective happy places
replicates that
scurrying that happens each
autumn when the
chipmunks find their winter
burrows.

you can savour the moment,
and it will attempt to fulfill.

but sometimes, there is no hunger
to be quenched
when the stomach lifts
and ecstasy the elixir of peace
drills deep into the veins and
pushes out all intoxicants
into their rightful place
in the bowels of the world
where bliss has yet to embrace
even those cold surfaces.

you can savour the moment,
and it will attempt to provide grace.

but sometimes, there is no elegance
to be admired
when the body believes
and acts appropriately to develop
all that we know is the solitude
and contentment and indulgence
and kindness and pleasure
and delight and elation and joy
and rapture and euphoria
and blessedness and glory
and benediction of this world’s
most precious gift
of vindication.