Fact is, I can no longer think straight.
The only way I can really understand the world is to move through it.
Like a shark slices through the ocean.
Like a cutter through 5 layers.
The texture and touch evidence my life.
Pull me out of the water and the drops roll off as evidence of my journey– witness of my existence.
Pull me from between the layers and the crumbs, fruit and frosting cling because I am the magnet– the pull that draws it all together.
No. More. Thinking.