There’s this first thing. And then the side of it. The underside. Maybe a knot.
My shirt looks like a dress.
A darkness that comes open. A light controlled by dimmer switch.
It’s just work. Effort. The cost of paying attention. No end of account.
Start with what you might call a “feeling.” Continue that way. And move on. Navigable hunch.
The roles are flipped.
And flipped again.
Flip-flop, padding along.
I don’t remember much, but it all comes with. Sometimes called “effects.”
Affect. I perceive.
I watch her move, and move, and move again. I listen. I smell. I wish to touch. I like to learn. I don’t know what. Just find out. It doesn’t happen. Well, sometimes. But not as often as I wish.
I don’t know what the wishes are.
If that’s not true, then I don’t understand.
Over. Under. Stand. Other sides.
When most accurate, I breathe. Just that, and staying there, I follow.
Staying as a sort of plodding. A moving. A padding along.
It seems that sounds compete. But they collapse, constructing more.
If sights and sounds were all. Or,
If there was a difference.
A word was used – was “murky.”
I touch the curves. I’m searching edges.
The switch dims and brightens, dims again, brightens.
Something. And then the side of it. Another side. A knot.
Outside being inside, dims and brightens, inside-out again. Staying there.
An old and thankful argument. To whom? For what? To what? For whom? And so on.
Or just affect. And staying there, I move along. And I am thankful.