do not confuse discrete with discreet
i’m taking time to cycle through the things that you don’t need to see or hear. i might be wrong, i know. i wonder . . . when i hear you, i feel weighted and buoyant, and i enjoy the contradiction btw. i like a soft stone and a heated cucumber. i like the feeling, sometimes.
i almost fell asleep to your voice once, in the best way possible. i fought the impulse and did not fall asleep -- i didn’t even enter a trance --, but i felt damn near close to being free, which is something else. i thought i mentioned this before; i wonder what it means to you.
please tell me.
i had to look through an old laptop earlier today, which brought me back in time briefly. no longer liberated, i was reliving my past tense. i lacked focus but did my best, i guess. i didn’t know what i knew and know now. i didn’t know what i’m afraid to admit now.
deep down i pray that the heft will melt, that our reach will spread, that my laundry cycles will spiral upward only. i wonder what that means to you.
tell me.
according to merriam-webster.com, “hmm” is the fourth most looked up word of this moment in time, after “pansexual.”