Oh the squeezing 
of my chest this morning 
collapsing 
I have another cup of coffee

Oh the lightness
that I am in love with 
floating 
I am not tethered to anything

Oh that dry heat
that turns my legs bright red 
Breathless 
I run my hands up and down them

I am surrounded by amateurs here
-YOU DO NOT WRITE THE RANSOM LETTER BY HAND- 
This is Rule #1

You do not hold hostage the people that you love.

You do not talk non stop to any person unfortunate enough to be sitting next to you.

You don’t tell everyone “Oh, I’ve got this” when you clearly do not.

Do, WITHOUT EXCEPTION
Find the private, often inappropriate joke that life has hidden in everything

Oh the repeating pattern
spiraling out from itself 
blooming 
when touched

Oh the ellipses
that I live in
whispering 
enjoying the quiet

-MAKE LOVE TO THE VOID-
Sounds like bad advice
When you read it on a bathroom wall
BUT
-When a poet from the Buddhist college in Colorado says this to you
You write all your friends and tell them
I HAVE FIGURED THIS SHIT OUT
You can all go home now.