I wear
Jackets inside,

The **** **** kind.

It's cold most nights
When I work.
Not so cold as

Chicago
xOr my **** grammar
But,

Cold enough to listen to myself
As I read myself over
Rain, snow, or shine to ensure

Wonder bliss
And the infamous twilight.

Is so grand or relatable, we
Can relate that

To God creating man.

When I get tired,
I don't go to sleep.
The body
Is a mind with restrictions
That need to be
Stripped of it.

Solitude. Socialism. AI.

What is our ideal state?
What is our point of progression?
Where is our evolution?

It's here
In these white spaces
Between black letters;

In sighs between laughs;

In afterthoughts
After

Thoughts;

In love before the making.