I wonder in the lights, darkness & shadows of shades & in between in constant reflections. Even in something as in wood grain I can't stop myself from my dissection. The innate need to see, observe, put in mouth, chew, spit & repeat.
I sit here, I. Me, You, Biophilia.
I am beyond fortunate enough that I have a place to go at this moment before I end. And I am fading, and I recognize my dangers of life's complications; thank you, William Blake, Walt Whitman, I dream to forget. To run away and fade in the reflections of life and all it encompasses of known and especially the unknown.