If I took a step back to take it in
I could see myself in the middle of something
puddle, storm, narrative, love
it isn’t as if I am invisible
it is more as if what exists outside is not separate
that there is no distinct outside, outline, casing
porous
but more than that
like a single bead in a bracelet
a piece of the pattern, a color, a shape, a note
the wind of the day
the day winding through me
holding me in sequence
my molecules, open space for the minute
me, the very minutia
of the universe
a very happy
speck
of cosmic
dust