In Life We Sit At

If At Large Gatherings Or Parties, Or Around People With Whom You Feel Distant, Your Hands Sometimes Hang Awkwardly At The Ends Of Your Arms - I You Find Yourself At A Loss For What Do With Them, Overcome With Sadness That Comes When You Recognize The Foreignnes Of Your Own Body - It's Because Your Hands Remember A Time When The Division Between Mind And Body, Brain And Heart, What's Inside And What's Outside, Was So Much Less.

The Accolades, Just Like The Scrapes And Bruises, Fade In The End, And All You're Left With Is Your Ambition.

Tell Me, Was I The Sort Of Person Who Took Your Elbow When Cars Passed On The Street, Touched Your Cheek While You Talked, Combed Your Wet Hair, Stopped By The Side Of The Road In The Country To Point Out Certain Constellations, Standing Behind You So That You Had The Advantage Of Leaning And Looking Up?

An Average Of Seventy-four Species Become Extinct Every Day, Which Was One Good Reason But Not The Only One To Hold Someone's Hand.

In Life We Sit At The Table And Refuse To Eat, And In Death We Are Eternally Hungry.