It that all it takes? One breath of this outside air, exhaled toward the rising horizon. To the blue on blue monsters from which I can't avert my eyes. Will they watch me while I'm sleeping? I can't go home now, the sky is leaking, and I sense the road is perilous, for one. Breakfast for one, lunch for one, table for two. The trees that line the beach build a home for my single occupation. Now everybody looks my way -- black on black as night, they watch me breathing, every inhale deepening, and say: Isn't that strange? Or nothing at all, it's always nothing at all. Drop my eyes to stones the color of sky and wonder how they got there. Pile them up and put the towers in my pockets, it keeps me on the ground. Not good for swimming, but I like the clacking sound as I skip around. Then? Moment after moment for me to fill with anything. Rest my eyes on the snowless peaks and wonder how it would feel to share them. Dinner for one, no dessert. The world is sweet as it is, any more would make my heart hurt.
Chicago-born citizen of the globe, rich in the things that really matter. Let's get weird.