"Hey, are you awake? Do you want to talk about it?"

No.

If anything, "it" would be a negative space,
really, the absence of something, maybe (?)

I exhale, smoke, look at the fire, slump down,
sinking into my aching, strained shoulders.

(wait please, silently, after I hit pause, until I come back to San Francisco, at least until after Yosemite)

I'll be able to articulate in 24 hours,
anything and everything I want(ed)

in the language only John Muir
and dappling sunlight through
the green can truly understand.