Collecting lonely moments

while not technically "alone,"

a recipe for bite-the-bullet recovery

from on high.


The bonds between I & "Other"

seem to strain

to the point that they

ALMOST snap...

whether in collapsing disconnection

or the simple anxious pulse

of "all" in disassociation,

like identity

was nothing more

than a summer lawn

adorned in trampolines,

with ideas of ID's

bouncing up & down

like an ambivalent parade

of helium balloons.