lately, quiet(ly)

am a little drained these days. but the rain fills me up - the call of water to water, progenitors of the shapeless & the shaped. i: am not sure of much, other than the way to tie my shoes / the lines of hands /

lunching every day with the department, lynch-pinning the bridge against departure (for my own).

it's not bad: we still answer the phone, email, eyes. i have no right to complain, so. perfectly, though, i forget - that people are not i - & yet, so similar: we grant amnesty to the other in exchange for warmth.