I am researching a testimony that includes
wondering when do I drive on to get used to it?
And then there is the softer round, and then
there is enough. And just then, tooling past the secret of how all direction
just sits there, I come forward to wonder, well,
I can’t keep away every minute you’re not near. And you,
you’re by no means ever alone. It’s like stop
telling me I have a face. It’s like stop staring into the seasonal gap
where then I had more, then I had more
than I’d hoped for. And like the ancient saying I can’t believe
you invited them over again, I keep the lid on tight,
waiting for some law to protect my nervous system
for what it is.