Brusheson the chair in my space, restless & unclearreflecting back i hear the sounds and see the peoplebut nothing quite breaks through it tangles and distorts in a mess ofwords, voices, sounds, images—facesall changing me, persuading —but i pick you up with my hands and swimming away is suddenly easythe distortion finally clear, i don't know if this moment is meant only for now but i know that with youmy old friend, time is free and so is my anxious corei know you better than any other noun and it gives me the comfort i wander in search ofbut then—it flows out againand i hear myself thinking something like "wh
Sta.sh
