This Is a Reminder

I wrote of my love as if
    I was in an emergency. The one where Pan
    had lured me into a Neverland death
    where the adventure was suffocated into
    stillness. The one not easily thawed.
    The kind that takes too long.

Patience in it was not
    my strong suit. Where I folded and lost
    myself by unanimous decision. Wendy was
    never there, of course, because I couldn’t
    grow the hell up.

The crocodile and its
ticking noise reminding
me that unmoving heralded doom. Yet I was
not Hook. I was Peter starting at myself
in that lagoon wondering when aging ends
and maturing begins. My inversely
proportional atoms. One towards
entropy and the other a quantum
staccato about regression.

Luckily, the cannons could never

    reach here. Nor could Wendy. Instead,

    it was you who let me kill time itself

    as I watched you guide my hand to the

    helm’s wheel where I chose what winds

    to follow as you

    knew where might

    be best.

I wrote of our love while
we were in an emergency. The boy
you knew still here but he made
haste our lifeline. The rhythm of speed
was now in our sails.

The boy grows still as does the ship but
both so earnest. I am grateful for the
danger where I step out of shallow shelter
and plunged into the fathomless where
before there was only a mirror reminding
me that foreshadowing was in
a five o’clock shadow
around my neck
coming off of
all things.