11111

ones follow ones. feelings i had once, a face i had forgotten. inflictions past and passed off in fictions. in which we just got on, with things, in part. apart, to play. this place. i will always burn my fingers making tea. this alteration of me. that rocking chair, a distance hard to reconcile, impossible to repair. my head held high. my firefly. ones become zeroes with a new one. unity passed over, gone. what can i say? here goes.