Y

ou are a whole new set of footnotes, but more like three-quarters. You are not all there and four of your three quarters know it. I like that pinball in a friend. I like being duo-ly incompletable and tilting. You are less microviolent than a deceivingly polished apple. I have been awaiting the reliability of your need-me-ness. I am need-me too. Let’s be that kind that gives and receives long pauses. Nibbles them like a solo mouse in a cactus quonset hut. I am more than one-quarter not get-with-the-three-quarter-program. I am bad at programs and good at nots. That’s surely one-quarter heavily duly noted. You are spot on. You are the spot on the apple I go to first. Our spots are built in case of reverse. We sweetly destroy forward progress to make space for feeling hugg-ed and shady. Or we are okay-as-a-cliché of two seashells holding one ocean. Recognizing stories within stories when poured ear-to-ear. Because all water is shared and the one true thing and a little bit waxy. Because those molecules stick the same way anywhere and taste different everywhere. But at its core there are infinite cores of corals, solid and porous, sweating the anxious ocean cider our dreams are sluiced of. And what’s more, please see below for a sky map of your precious polka-dots that barnacle the quarter we’re not looking for but love.