I think about matter sometimes,

and its invisible barriers. The unnoticed, unthought of space it creates between human contact. So much distance and space.

When I tug at one thing in life,

I find it attached to the rest of the world. The same stream of life that runs through my veins night and day stirs through the world and dances in rhythmic measures. It is the same life that shoots in joy through the dust of the earth in numberless blades of grass and breaks into tumultuous waves of leaves and flowers. It is the same life that is rocked in the ocean-cradle of birth and of death, in ebb and in flow. I feel my limbs are made glorious by the touch of this world of life. And my delight is from the life-throb of ages dancing in my blood this moment. Because really, the world is too dangerous for anything but truth and too small for anything but love.

What I'm shooting for is a coffee luster Wednesday morning with books and breakfast, what I'm getting is Thursday night junk food empty apartment.

symmetrical white walls
cluttered shelves
the door is closed
the mouth is shut
the eyes are looking
the mind is running
the body is cunning
follow me
into water clusters
and lip-smacking sugar swirls
let's run the cunning down