Frenching with ardent snowflakes was my youthful pastime. Once, in high school, I danced like no one was watching as the snow gently fell, but I was in a courtyard surrounded by windows, and everyone was watching. Early hypomania, before mania bloomed in my mind like a cantankerous blossom of energy. My ankle is derelict. I can’t walk far. But my mind is at the edge of the solar system, stepping out into a blistering future of stars.
Miniature Moon 