Reptiles in the Mind

This is the short line that grows.
Remember when you met her? Good. Such memories we call nostalgic because with time we can polish them like brass handrails. What was once corroded green, shimmers in bright flame. With time it is always so. The truth is in the instruction not the execution. The truth is in the verb, the action, the movement. How can the evasive live in stasis? Trust that which does not lie still. Push pen across paper until truth will out on it.