Figures of the past, forms of the future. What do you want from me? And I can’t because you’re complete, someone, complete stranger. We’re not deep, drowning in attachment which is easier. Easier because we’re strangers to each other. Do we need to close the door? Or should we leave it be, trust our one world, ourselves to open up? Little talks, medium, bigger-than-our-bodies talks. What are they? Does any make a difference? I am dazed from the movement of your mouth and the shuffling of your feet. I don’t understand which direction am I lost in the inside of you? Or are we just outside of another? I think we closed our doors. Are we rejecting escaping surviving the beauty that can only emerge out of our mutual attention to the present that is accepting braving thriving that can only emerge out of harmonious intimacy. Then that’s okay. We’ll be okay. Are we good? What do you want from me?