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.
Written May 13th, 2018
in Powell River, BC, Canada