I remember when it was my turn
to be young and immortal,
to play endlessly with no sense of time.
Hours felt like days.
Days felt like weeks.
Weeks felt like months.
Summers went on and on forever.

I think most of my heaven
must be my grandmother’s house
when I was a child,
my father and grandparents still alive.
Long summer afternoons by the pool.
The freedom to feel so carefree and safe,
surrounded by the ones I love.

Perhaps this is the feeling I am chasing so hard.
Perhaps these precious lost moments
are what I hope in vain
my vices will bring me.
The security of laying my head
in my grandmother’s lap
as she soothes me and tells me stories.