in its incapacitating, insane clarity,
and suddenly, there is no space for questions of why and what for, because
there is only that which is.
it will pass, at some point, i know,
this is only a bout, a fit, incomplete and unfinished,
searing the edges of what i thought i could bear.
it does get quite boring, to be
trapped in my body, alone
with something that will leave only when my soul
transitions to somewhere else.
the tom-tits and a blue-tit have found my bird-feeder, and seem to like the food. how green their wings, how black the lines and patches, how white the mirrors, how blue the cap. how beady their eye, watching for compeTITors.