It is to you I write most days. To the what-is-to-come that makes you up. Other times I wish I could chase you away, and instead you do all the chasing. I see you rushing towards me and it knocks the wind and the words out of me. [radio silence]
My mind has been all static and crossing wavelengths these past weeks. Heartbeat has forgotten his place and started wandering up into my forehead and behind my eyes. My switch has a glitch and tends to flip without much prompting.
I can’t blame these topsy turvy ways all on you, Unknown. You’re a hopeful sort too. You put my feet to dancing and are the DJ of those sticky tunes rattling around mind-spaces on productive afternoons. I know that one day we will be close friends, wise to each other’s tricks and tendencies. Until then I will fight to see your beautiful, hopeful side each time you come running.