just be whatever

my sweet friend, andrew, one lovely afternoon in early fall

just be twenty five
or however old you are
or however young you are
or however wreckless or uptight or loose you are

just be a beginner
or an old fucking pro
or jaded or jarred or wishing everything was different

there's no wrong way to be
there are just stories and stories and stories

and the inside scaffolding of your soul
that's resting quietly, waiting
for you to notice
that no matter how you be
she's got room for it
reasonlessly

and a knowing
radically
that no being
lasts forever

woosh