tonight I am the sky. its scattered stars beneath the tarp of cloud still feebly glinting on the inverted retina of a dark, blinded world, as from said sky now snow, in microscopic crystals, pours down, tangoes around the silence, settles accrues on steps and ledges and thresholds - and hisses like the big swooshing ocean, “behold the moment, human, you are whole.” fright? awe? surrender? all of them? in vertigo, I tiptoe toward slumber as cadenced breath goes in and out of me like waves in empty shells on boundless empty beaches: it fills me then departs, with each return beseeches, “you are enough, let go now, you're enough.”
