We cannot pace any longer

After warm times with old friends and long talks of identity crises in Lauren's basement, I returned to the final section of The Thesis. And now I see a mirror - summer/fall, winter/spring.

I've had many ideas - hints of direction -

but now I must forget them all because suddenly I see one path, running as straight as time towards May, and I write along it now. Perhaps later there will be time for a glance. But for now I hold my breath against this fracture and run - somewhere [Somewhere is There] -

~

And if I move enough, I begin to think this was all a dream.