For something greater, could you leave me be? I could be happy just sitting and breathing, if you would be still against my breast. Let me hold you and coddle you, but leave me to my studies and my moment and my momentum. Oh, how thoughtful, the thoughtless abyss. The wandering willow, roots unhinged, branches floating freely in the wind. The awakening coming close, to a close, to a whimsical fancy place. A solitude. A weeping solitude as the sun rises. Combustion in the sky, giving warmth and how bright light, can I just sit with you in the afternoon? Is it possible? Could there be more and more and more, or just the same the same the same. Who could tell which occult figurine would appear? Which goddess to praise? Which momentary lapse of judgement tells me I could not be really here, I could be anywhere else, the necessity of it chokes me when I open and close my eyes. I fear. The fear subsides. I love. The love sticks to my ribs like sleepy potatoes. The lungs fill, each tiny cavity full of the oxygen it needs and so desires. I breathe in. Inspired. I breathe out. Exhaustion. I wonder if we ignored it, would it go away? The answer, I’ve learned is maybe absolutely not. Not from this body, refusing to sit still for even a moment. Eyes closing once again to the sadaeaaddsbhmsdnkcsjwkcn.