-A certain stillness-
The strings of retro-orange beads hang unstirred.
Partial sunlight sieving through frosted glass panes.
The bath water sways lethargically with my breath.
I'm tired, but had forced myself up to relish the day.

-A certain peace-
Of being able to spend a full hour over the papers, undisturbed.
The dog sprawled, legs up, eyes closed.
Juice, coffee, Julie London.
Contemplated the effectiveness of Love for Sale and Desafinado-
Can anyone really sing it better than Billie or Astrud?

-A certain interruption/block-
I've stopped talking
Because words are usually barricaded out after the revelation of a fact and half its accompanying elaboration.
Phonecalls from people I'd met the night before.
It is a start, if I'd only convince myself so.