It started with a wink.

But that’s not where it started.

It started with abandonment,
And forced independence,
And bare-knuckled survival,
With a brain-thirst to slake,
With poverty that money can’t buy,

And the delight of square pegs.

It started with the Preschool of self-made amusements,
With the Governess of necessity,
With the Grammar of exclusion,
And the College of subsistence,

And obsidian wit.

It started with standing apart,
And standing out,
And  standing the difference,

And standing at all.

It started with beauty,
It started with candour,

Love.

It started before we met.

Bryson Thomas