I’m thinking that it’s that season again, when a beginning and an ending collide, when passions pile on top of each other, when they rage under the skin. I’m thinking of coffee. I’m thinking of consuming poetry tonight. I’m thinking of letting them take slices and bites. I’m thinking that the yellow shirt is gone. I’m thinking rapidly and slowly at the same time. I’m thinking of the guy I haven’t been replying to. Is he the one? No, he definitely isn’t. I’m thinking of the mad sounds in the cracks. I’m thinking of screaming on top of a mountain, however I am not on a mountain, but maybe I am at the mountain of my feelings. I’m thinking of how humans can’t stand silence. I’m thinking of loving. I am loving.