part 1: 9:30 am

Sitting here, over a week late.

Still sitting here, thinking.

Disposed, but not out. Two feet finally in.

Pensive playing, no thoughts ever leaning into seriousness.
Then again, maybe the seriousness of what is right in front of me is too great to
stop.
Or start, because
taking a step back only leads me into silence.
The immensity goes beyond all feeling.

Only being.

Which is great and all
but I still don’t have a letter,
still don’t have a coherent set of thoughts
he can read back to hear what he might understand,
What I know deep down he already intuitively knows.

If only I could say it. If only I could say how.