Twenty-three percent when placed under intense pressure did in fact kick the door in. Soldiers creep on the other side of the turn. Every little thing is destined for ease. Music, be still. Keep the mannequin secrets to yourself. Remember a ladder can take you both up and down. The weather grows less stable than
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Meditation for the Silence of Morning
I wake myself imagining the shape
of the day and where I will find
myself within it. Language is not often
in that shape,
but sentences survive somehow
through the islands of dark matter,
the negative space often more important
than the positive.
Imagine finding you look at the world
completely different upon waking one day.
You do not know if this is permanent.
Anything can change, after all,
for how else would you find yourself
in this predicament or this opportunity,
depending on the frame? A single thought
can make loneliness seem frighteningly new.
We destroy the paths of rivers to make room for the sea.