I sense my own foreignness today. This body– experienced like some sort of space craft I have been asked to drive.
Words open doors in us, diminishing the distance.
Sanding. Pressure over time. Slowly back and forth. We hardly even notice we are gently wearing away each day.
Drawers painted white. A project finished.
Standing in the light.
The distance between us. Two figures face away from each other. Between them lines are drawn. Defining pain sometimes lessens it.