There is trust like gravity, a self settled.
The whole in a hole, the eye of a storm, breathe here and breathe hear. We found some pieces in the form of choices, Stand them up. They totter, then they run.
Always the next leap, a chance for changes.
Here is Choice, a managed exchange, a mediated flow. Our senses are switched on, but minds filter, minds contrive and true or false, a narrative forms There goes the walking, talking, jangling self, a set of needs, a list of pains, pursuits, pleasures, dancing today and passing away.
