—boxes. cardboard’s eternal transience. the rattle of pills, journals lifted to trailer hitched to van hitched to wispy fragmented dream: a house & neighborhood where i made plans that never reached their end because of the first law: friction as irregularity instead of all i’ve known.
—momentum. refusal to slow. acceleration times mass, the calculus of up rooting from cozy bed to shove nose to window, watch icesheets bellyflop, kinesis dwarfing me, my mass variable as i come to terms with winter’s paradox: motion frozen, weather my tiny thermostat can’t seem to handle.
—reacting, dodging empty kisses, leaving strange equals & opposites in my wake. a diagram my 6th-grade teacher drew scratchy in chalk: a rocket ship propelling through space’s void, nothing to push against except itself & where it was the second before, and the second before that.