Sketches

I can almost be sure I had warned you before: you will find your way here.

You've been having dreams lately and, as you wonder about it now, you remember thinking about it some days ago, though which day it was, you don't remember. A line of words dances before your eyes: cease, seize, bees, sky, window. Another follows its tail: chair, smoke, bloom, tea, pavement.

The attempt to rationalize is quickly assaulted by the reprimand There is no pattern.

Morning

See how the day glimmers with clarity, framed by the four sides of your window. The corners are there so the eyes do not stray. Take a step back and keep enough distance, should the longing to look beyond them seize you.

If the distance doesn't douse the impulse, take a walk outside.

Remember how you described that movie in a conversation from years ago. Remember how pinpricks feel. Remember the lilt in voices. Remember voices. Remember the way a surface can both be sunlit and not. Remember how a smile tugs at your mouth. Remember the distance between your eyes and that wall from years ago. Remember that wall. Remember distances. Remember how a crease can draw attention to itself. Remember how empty losses can feel. Remember how rain feels on your face. Remember the sound of a car being driven away. Remember the oblivion in corners. Remember the strangeness of cold floors. Remember how nights can stretch for miles and miles. Remember the strangers in your dreams. Remember dreams. Remember your dreams. Remember what weariness feels like. Remember that chair. Remember all the keys you've lost. Remember doors and doorways. Remember that hall. Remember what vagueness feels like. Remember the sound of wind chimes. Remember violins. Remember the impossible softness of this pillow. Remember water. Remember the smell of an early morning. Remember rain-soaked mornings. Remember the sounds of morning. Remember how quiet sadness can be. Remember what laughing feels like. Remember how your laughter echoes upward. Remember the falls you've had. Remember how soft surfaces can be. Remember how hands are surfaces. Remember soaring. Remember solitary silences. Remember shared silences. Remember what hunger feels like. Remember sweetness. Remember what bland tastes like. Remember soaring. Remember how awake the mind can be. Remember lullabyes. Remember Thursdays. Remember that Thursday. Remember forgetting. Remember the comfort in slumber. Remember this road. Remember your footfalls. Remember remembering.

How to hurry

un-finish the to-dos so you can grab a wink before the day is done because another one waits in the outskirts of your week but take care not to spill the coffee even if you'd rather have tea but oh oh the tea place is too far and you barely have half an hour to check what needs oiling or fixing or combing yes button up those discs and grab the nearest pair of sleeves shove yourself into those nudes that go along with everything check yourself can you blend into the nearest wall when things get worse than 7 o'clock run run slam the windows shut run is there ever time to pause or pause to look but oh the plug goes un-pulled forgotten until the first stop your life goes past your nose past the last lie the present blurs but your mind is on the lack of light while you smudge your left cheek with pink tint did you put the right shade on the jerk was too sudden good the puppy flees unharmed there's always tissue on hand to wipe the stray brush strokes away relief can't be too far ahead but the clock is never on your side so wring your sweaty hands you think you could wing it everytime and everytime is never anywhere except when you don't need it oh why why don't you ever learn remind yourself to stop making lists of shoulds and musts they never get done anyway--