The details are what makes it real, this life, this
moment…this rolling motion up and down living thing
this miniscule bit of matter floating on dark energy, on
opposing forces of nature…forever and never…now.

Have we forgiven ourselves this dream, this madness we
call movement motion living giving seeing all and seeing
nothing…revolving through life like we had a choice, like
we knew where we were going…

I’ve had this dream before, many times in fact and it’s all
about the details that get noticed, noted, documented
somewhere official, somewhere unseen, somewhere
between now and never, between you and I…

I’ve read that book before, I wrote that book, I am the
story poem prose and pretty patterns in the sand, in the
end I am who I am and without you or them and without
a life I am simply energy…floating not floating…away

Spinning but never feeling it, never knowing the thousand
of miles per hour we spin around our own personal axis
of evil, around the choices we refused to make, around
town…eyes out for the details as we parallel park our lives.

I imagine the impact of feeling falling moving motion words
of hurt and pain and think that it is daily hourly and this minute
that we have to prepare for, have to dream into being, have
to decide upon…today…now.

Details make it real but we make it happen
Feelings make it moving but
we make it happen.

We make it happen.

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