this is the fifty-first time I’ve lived this life
I am sitting in this moment near these books
As I have done fifty times before
I keep coming back
Layer upon layer of paint
I am keeping time
I am holding it in my hands.
I refuse to leave this | is my every dessert.
This place is so familiar. This body full of echoes.
I look to the end to see an end but I can only see this repetition
I come back to taste what I didn’t notice the first time
When I was distracted
I come back to be distracted by what I didn’t notice when I was tasting
And again to avoid a mistake and find peace.
And again to make a mistake and find love
I can’t stop painting this picture
It is only one small thing I am doing.in the endless things that are me
It is only one small life I am living
But it’s my favourite one
You’re all my favourites
Each of you
Let me look at you from every angle
A thousand mirrors I’ve set up
Each memory repeated reflected reflexive
Whatever it means I want to be it
I am never stopping being
Being is what I am