2.25.25

There was the question of choice, of course, meaning what it meant to choose, rather than having been chosen for.  Growing older then, was wanting to live more than wanting to die, of choosing, not having, being chosen for, wanting love, wanting sex, wanting sleep, seldomly getting enough of it, and if gotten for a moment, then losing it, going on sadly, then happily, choosing the new day over the old one, misunderstanding everybody, risking being misunderstood, hearing, for a moment, the word underneath all words, forgetting it, holding on too tightly, and then in the end––always, as if promised, whatever was wanted––learning to live without it.