There are some days that like rubix cubes,  in turns I think of your energy and your and gut and will growth and how it becomes dull, and atomic. Like the  then and the now, the renew after flash being of  energy. Dematerialization. And re-materialisation.   Like the glows of the ending of the discharging waves of the twinges of the charged and thrown light of dusk.. The days die, constantly, beautiful desiccant, decampment of the suns focus of decay  and beautiful rays, a daily gift. Ridged in daily job position, regardless of the sacred season. No thankyou’s. Good mornings, afternoons or good evenings.

Then,  I think how taxing and savage life is and just getting to know a person it all is. Growing to know and understand their traits and taxonomies, enemies of their own inner civilisations, and a juxtaposition of being their own guardians and warriors seeking and accustoming to both yourself, friends, creations of family, savages of others, even me. The solitary of self and mastery of soul, naming limits and then the heights and limitations again ironically enough is enough to inform one and send one running.

When you stand in approximation of yourself, front your structure, and me, what of it.. to sound out and  of my niggling woeful blinding habituated ignorant gravity. Uh. What do I know of your humanness, other than that your mind is a core of capability and integrity an intellectual conduit, constructions connections loops, waves, hex and bands. You act, you stand, you have architectural allotment and self.

I wish I could self-adjust brainwaves like people self-adjust, their belt buckles. You are like the super awesome kind of something special. Not the window adhesive face sucking special kids either. More like the little Einstein bobble heads.

You know, you are only human, despite my faring fired up trend setting neurons in the brain that tells me otherwise on so many intrinsic levels. You must have been great with an abacus when you were young, because you are one that is able to calculate and is dependable.

I often wonder how many boxes you have or have stomped in your brain, perhaps filling cabinets in your mind, more suited effacement for storage and placement. Just wonder how you do it. Eh.

I know it in my depths, soul deep, brainwaves and complexities and perhaps this is why I ache in my bones they have become my transparencies. I will eternally with gratitude miss you and all that you have honestly and openly shown and given me.

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