I love your thought process!! Great read

my confidence is yours knowing holding on is useless as is letting go, curious you too know the art of pretending it didn't exist is the surest way to attend to your true desire, beyond caring we rest peacefully, mirrored into depths we don't need to travel, or have to... again or ever. Time is in a vacuumed helix a reoccuring drip until it rushes forth flowing as if it always was somewhere, minutes ticking and talking over the tops of heads stops when its the finger tips that are speaking... Take this kiss upon the brow! And, in parting from you now, Thus much let me avow: You are not wrong who deem That my days have been a dream; Yet if hope has flown away In a night, or in a day, In a vision, or in none, Is it therefore the less gone? All that we see or seem Is but a dream within a dream. I stand amid the roar Of a surf-tormented shore, And I hold within my hand Grains of the golden sand-- How few! yet how they creep Through my fingers to the deep, While I weep--while I weep! O God! can I not grasp Them with a tighter clasp? O God! can I not save One from the pitiless wave? Is all that we see or seem But a dream within a dream?

I admit I really admire a poem that can take the simple morning tasks and write them into a compelling set of moments. Loved the "skeleton in the flesh"- just brilliant. The use of "we" invites me into this quite intimate time of day - should I look, should I look away? :) The door - ah, the door - along with the delightful alliterations in that stanza, its role in this piece is pushed aside(open), symbol of the writer's optimism?, one hopes, for the coming day. I will wait to see what the three months' dotdotdots reveal in your next installment.

So rich! Had to read this in bits n' pieces, then all together just a moment ago; dang ADHD. Now that I have, love it from start to finish. You've got me wondering about the mysterious ending.