Dreaming About Small Things. And Instruction Manuals.

I don't want to do anything today.

I want to sit in a corner, with my eyes closed and mouth shut.

I want to pull a blanket over my head. I want to fill my ears.

And dream.

Of other people, in other places, leading different lives. Carrying different hearts, in different cages.

Filled with older memories, newer hopes. Deeper breaths, clearer eyes.

Person. Sitting, standing, waiting.

In the small space, arms wrapped, back held straight, upright. Lips that move with breathing out words, mutters.

Less thought than felt. Like that letter we found "thinking without thought".

Hair pulled back, a naked face. Nothing to hide behind. The hardest thing.

Turn out the light.

(Open the door)

I like small words at the moment and always. They are real. Dense and solid, weighted.

They fit inside palms and hold down tablecloths.

Longer words float and sprawl. Flutter, catch the wind.

I like them too.

But the weather isn't right for kite flying.