maybe i’ll say something some day some where some place some life

there’s this large silvery black plate that I’m pressing into
with my head, it’s slightly depressed, but just leaning on it it straightens up against the wall. its pressing up against the glass. its got a few air bubbles, don’t know if its because its too thin or cold blooded. longer it stays the less bubbles and inconsistencies in how it’s pressed up
when i let go and let the reigns fall, revert to a blinded-ness. clarity of mission.