Perhaps it’s that the world is so sweet I want to do all of it, perhaps it’s that I am both confident and not. Perhaps there is no problem at all except for this mind that continues to choose that over this, that says no look over there, at her, jump ahead, where will you go? I fracture myself looking at all the bodies around me, all the ways they are better than me, all the ways they are doing what I am not. I want to be them, there, in that body, not here.
Presence brings me back. This body is the only one where I can be.
Being as a refrain.
Bodies as beautiful when they are larger and smaller and different than mine. I will never meet a body that is not different than mine. There’s a rule I want to follow: everything that is me and everything that is not be is beautiful. New rule.
