the wind and the boiling kettle make a similar sound. a rush, a push. the nicotine high dragging you back. it is cold and the air pushes down past the flue and into my (room). i will sleep here, i will give it up. it's not a question of compromise, just an understanding and accepting. now. warmth, sufficiency. the marks remain but bounce back fresh and alive. i have seen god. i will learn her ways and return with the force of the wave. this is what you did. this is what you did. this is what you did. this is what you did.





breathe it out and blow it away