what we’re made of
we believe we’re made of rocks, or wood—
but it’s something else.
reality is amorphous
reality is amorphous;
slippery.
nobody can get a grip on it.
i know what she wants
i know what she wants.
she’ll do anything to hang on to it.
a safe house
if you leave
it won’t be the same when you come back
save identity
have you ever left without one
or are you afraid you’ll be trapped here forever
unless you choose?