The chill that crawls in the cytoplasm and folds in against itself damasked and dynamic but it wasn't the climate's bite the pea gravel stone cemented into place boarding up the fluid monument poured up and leveled by its creator but it wasn't the stone digging into my heel pressing on the once broken bone that reminded me that this THIS is not the way i ordered my hamburger and no it wasn't any thing growing atop my flimsy wrapping pale and hairy and then nothing inside me and resting along the walls of my longest tract digesting my food along side me even still more base it wasn't any amount of matter condensed shooting firing between two neurons reminding me of half truths or lies blatant ones which can careen me back into places better left forgotten no what i felt there with wet feet and cold quivering hands was something that despite what i would love to believe CANNOT be measured that which drew me from every one of the places that should be connected but aren't to a love manifested as suspicion that placed both egg and seed in the same envelope of both disgust and admiration ******* Vicky whoever you are **** you and all the cold ******* lice and the pressure the memories they all try to drag me away to a place where I cant see what they desperately try to convey one to another and our brilliant star moves from behind one iridescent pink gossamer puff sparkling for a moment back behind another it's warming but it doesn't reach back for your had no request for your warmth and yet every fiber aches for the moment when you careen back into it or when everything you know is compressed back into it that that little moment where everything and nothing make sense like two dogs speaking french to each other as long as they both know how to howl not just how to how is simple. but when and why