This day has no handholds. It’s slick.

Slides through my fingertips like the wet sand memories from the coast where I fed the ocean my tears.

I will close my eyes and just recklessly glide over all this. Turning in tight circles until something manifests or I disappear.

Maybe we’ll solidify or turn into static.

Become the background sound.

The white hummmmmmmm…

So vast and resonant that I can stop greedily listening for the song that calls me home.