little humans everywhere

There are so many fading lights

and closing doors--

the end of hour creeps near. This feels close,

as we search for a last surge of energy

and still, I feel content to just be,

despite the pulls, pressure, and pushes

forward

back

with every side seemingly extravagantly

complicated

and still, I'm left to lean back against this stone

alone

and breath and be, and breath and be.

I wrote this while eating dinner, alone. Could you tell? : )

Here's an odd picture of my legs and oily plate. no brussels sprouts left at dinner nearly brought a tear to my eye.

Backseat Driving by Q is really it.