moments

In the in-between moments, they will find you. When that happens, breathe. When you feel the summer rain evaporating off the sidewalk into the summer air hanging over your head and in your lungs and feel that we all exist in the space between the hydrogen and oxygen, whatever those words mean to you, you know that they are all in-between moments. They ask how you can be two places at once and you just smile because it's inhabiting the moment, and that includes all the moments that make you up and the truth is the only moments that are real are the places you have been.


Everybody pays for these eyes, I'm not sure who made it so but there are all these books full of ideas about it. You can read them if you like but it doesn't really make a difference except maybe to you. It's not like mastery of metaphor came easy. You'll pay a nightly toll to the voices still whispering: "Nobody will ever believe you," you already know they're right because of the simultaneous blessing and curse of future sight, and you re-commit every second always singing a little reminder song about how it was worth it to take no one's word about anything and find out for yourself, at least you tried.