trying to explain this sense of being between.
everyone knows the story. the pieces come together. the pieces fall apart.
was it to escape or seek recourse.
my pulse slow but stirring. i can stay up all night.
she is a vendor of the night selling sleep.
how did you travel so calmly. as if there are no earthquakes.
as if hope would slow you down.
i swallow hard like a kid with a sore throat. i am left out of sorts.
i will drink mint tea. and three eggs on a weekend morning.
stare into space. go to bed early. try cold compresses.
i live as if falling through it all.
a pounded sheet of iron. thin stiff rippled hardness.
a year, falling into years.
what i am. what i want to be. and what lies between.