I was looking at some old starts on some posts, because I haven’t really been moved to post anything and I basically have nothing to say, Yes, yes…

But, I found this and it’s ok, as is.

sitting alone in an

empty house,

suddenly bereft I

long, for something

I never had, nor knew

I wanted; but now it

shows what it is and

was; by its absence.

A real me; not the

I, but the me. I

cannot be alone and

can feel me being

so. It is the  heat that

makes incense light

from a flame

which, from a distance,

can appear cool.