(eyes, blinking open.)
you see? that’s enough, however look
I’ve made up thinking more.
too eager? a judgment certainly.
what’s in that brimming bowl?
sweet forgetfulness (oh, yea, I understand).
my muscles, not holding rigid thoughts.
a space for dreams to see their stories right.
light. at least a bushel’s worth.
one white butterfly.
ask, if you’d be fond of a spoon in your hand.