The urge to write fills me as I take a sip from life,
a mouthful,
a handful,
I take all I can get, and I give back these reflections, never quite as equivalent to what I took for a bit of life I stole remains in me, dancing, swirling, being, with joy with grace

with a strange sadness.
It is what feeds me and starves me.
It hums, hums, hums, sings to me,
puts me to sleep, and I wake up to it sitting by the end of my bed smiling at me, its hands on my forehead. fondly it reassures me that there won’t be a day when alone I will be without it,
it stays with me and when it leaves, I leave too.

But for now, we stay.