Once again, I want to be another person.
So much of my life is imagined.
I write the letter and don't mend it.
The worry of the particulars
exceeds
my certainty I want to do this
at all.
I can decide;
what can my decision do?
Float on a pedestal of heaven,
calm face of water in a fountain.
I'm afraid of looking.
Deciding is more spectral than fountain skin.
A daddy long legs falls in it.
My feared decision holds it up.
That's all I can hold all I can muster.
I've accomplished something.