I give you, one second, one moment.
Not explanation. An explanation is a life that makes sense,
while Cambridge is a question. And each day. Each question, each second.
I am a linguist. Now that cat? She is sleeping on my bed.
The days go by slower now. And I wait.
Waiting as in gathering. Gathering as in. Tomorrow is a breath.
A breath of steal. I have found that they believe me.
And I feel the peace flow from dreams to my toes.
And about that cat. There were days when the world would turn
dark and ransom. When light was nothing more than light
and not breath. When a step was not a step but a burden and not a tear.
I have forgotten the reason I walked into the kitchen, perhaps I will ask my
cat? Alone. yes. No. I have chosen. And I chose well.
