This is bare-breasted vulnerability. This is not wearing a bra today because I slept in, and my chest needed a break. My ribs did not hear that TED talk about the importance of opening up. This sensation cannot be kept in Tupperware, for later. It rots over time. Not shelf-stable, not even stable stable. It’s just a feeling. Adding it’s just before something huge or awful is the equivalent of holding up a wall that’s falling on you, crushing you. Adrenaline saves the day and takes the night in return
And this, this is my understanding of night:
The night, without knowing me, knows my address and phone number. Breathes into the receiver before hanging up. This is the apple tree bearing the early fruit. This is the late spring snow covering fruit like some kind of scandal. This is my dream from 5am:
The owl hovering next to the airplane window and my phone’s battery finally running out.