I am not a healer. It
is true I was born in a thunderstorm.
To understand the world completely
is to forgo living in it. You’re wanting
a myth to ease the paralysis
of confusion and worry. I
am your myth. But as it is with
any chosen one, choosing
was never an option for me. I would
choose against it. My own body
fails. But I sense the desperation
in your gaze. Time, like weather,
breaks down the physical world. What is
undiminished is the panic for something holy.