7

I have to have a complete measure of the days that will elapse and it will all be wonderful because my life will finally linger into a system of organic oneness. I have consumed my time mapping an unmistakable horizon where I could find a home. And in that home lies an edge where I could sit and acquire a kind of light on my forehead; and so I could touch it with all the the fastidiousness of my unmistakable self. I have yet to find my home. That home. I believe it is just around right here; I just have to live. And I have to complete the measure of the days that will elapse, and those of which I will chance to find, and in turn, could chance to find me (That they could even chase and attract me if it’s within the realm of possibility, which I am sure about). I will kiss that sort of a formulaic certainty with a bit of luck pasted on my forehead; and we will kiss each other — that I am sure to find myself looking at a distance straight to its eye touching its nose; touching nothing, but its nose.