A Shell of The Dying living; a Crowned Tooth: the Memory.

I am drilling through a lot in this new work. I struck a cavity that has been on the rot. I would be lying if I said I know exactly what is on the other side of this. One would believe relief, the hope with any root canal, but I’m not ready to release the suffering; the deep feelings. What is a moment of comfort? A Shell of The Dying living; a Crowned Tooth: the Memory.

What to Say.
Love is Confusing.
Reasons we Fall into Love.
The Complexity of each Being which is no Thing 2-Dimensional.
Then I Colored in the Lines.
To Love some Thing is Never to Love The Person at all.
What is it You Love and – Do Patterns matter because the Contrast is so Great that you are Upheld Apart from the rest Gasping thin Air?
What, a Thrill?
High atop the wave The Pebble.
I Crash into the Sand.
Again Love Again.
Is this what I believe? I have felt it, but what proves my belief in it? The unconscious practices of pattern? With all acquired knowledge, how can this be ingrained so deep I did not even see it? The words came out right and my body went and left. The images collaging around my head. The fish in the pond, the ice cream sundae, the tent, the trophy, the dream, the plane, the steak, the cotton candy – moments of comfort I thought.
I wanted to believe.

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