we sign off at 10:30pm with our usual salute and as soon as the camera goes black i effort to remove the pained smile from my face. i’m not as precise as i’d like to be but precision at 200 miles an hour isn’t realistic. after two years delivering at the same speed he’s decided to keep me. not sure why. i don’t question it too often but nights like tonight do, because blessings take me aback sometimes and feel like undeserved gifts, gifts i must make good on by giving back and nights like tonight the pressure is heavier than normal when questioning whether efforts are in alignment with all i’ve been given to hold or release as the case may be. i’m not sad. i’m not happy. i’m not complaining or boastful. i’m not anything except dizzy with a side of heavy-handed loneliness difficult to express in words. sunday evening is nearly gone and with it disappearing this dithering tripod of vertigo. awareness was regulated by retaining walls blocking my reach from yesterday’s horizon. my language is carefully buried on paper to one day be found in the gleaming of a bottle slowed in furlough to its ocean travels. upside down i write, lips a perpetual frown aching to be put right through exploration and candid tongue. no one hears the hieroglyphics or sees their numbed consonants. only my eyes with gaping voice filter stage lights to fervent shores.

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