Day One

When I pick at the edge I mean are you Available? When you represent one thing using one word I am in awe. When I order money on the internet it arrives. If I eat this cookie, then my body must create space for it. If I go outside, then I will be seen. If I am visible, then you exist. Unintentionally falling asleep is never not at least a little frightening. I didn't realize how I had come to rely on my dreams as an assurance that all this was going somewhere. I want to make less and less sense. I want to be like her. I want an audience who doesn't require care. My care. I want an audience like a hallway. I want it all, open. Really. I just want to read every book that has ever been written. I want to know everything beautiful and monstrous. I want to stand at multiple stages of its construction inside a cathedral. Cathedrals. Everywhere. You do some of the work now. I wake up early. You are the complement. Walk down this hallway and into my skin. These eyes want to close. The weather changing, new books divulging. How smart am I? Can I ever write about anything other than myself? Permanent soliloquy? One view of many. A distraction inside me with tendrils of you. Disastrous mistrust of separation made vegetal by our touch.