The light pouring past the front window shines along the hall through the doorway in a manner which suggests whatever’s on the other side is much larger and taller than I know it to be.
Seasons change and people come into their own and I’m looking for what I deserve and reaching for it but is it here
and what exactly am I searching for on that three block commute down Glen Iris (looking down at my feet as I walk, listening to Vegas like I did) and could it possibly be the projected fortune of only nostalgia can convince you of (what am I trying to convince you of?)
(NO)
and yet
My head hurts now trying to absorb, no
comprehend a three-dimensional object in a way two-dimensional beings simply never will.
I’ve worn your collar and I remember what choices I made, and the pain it caused, all at once being very clearly able to connect the dots while also feeling acted upon by that third dimension in a way unknowable.
But we can try! I’m no fool for believing. What I’m searching for exists and it can be mine.