want

thick, hot air under a thin haze. in an altered gaze, so many things just disappear. how do we disappear? how do we lose ourselves in the seams of the stories we sew? in the glares and barely theres and late nights? in the primetime tv shows?

what is good? what is good eventually becomes good enough, if we're not careful. we avow earfuls. and forget it. the words we passionately impart so quietly disappear. in the air, thick and hot, floating away to somewhere far beyond our grasp or sight. into space, where they resonate. they resonate.

we move slowly. we find what is real is not what we've aggrandized or fantasized or have tried on for size, time and time again. we move slowly, so as not to get lost in the seams of what seems to be life finally happening, just not in the ways we happened to have believed it. zeros and ones melt away. we solidify our maybes, babies. we slide in. we feel safe. we feel slow.

what is good is good. is good enough. is here. is there. is everywhere. we make due and we make it through and love becomes us. we realize we're not who we were when we were younger. we move slower. we fold our hands. we understand. what's good is good. is grand. is more.

the air here is now thick and hot, after so much waiting. after so much waiting. after so much winter. after so much. you take me as i am. and i am good.