Like attempting to use the manual focus on a camera for the first time,
living life is.
Or so, we are supposed to feel like.
I struggle to remember the words exactly as how they were said,
but that thing about our own truth and identity is activating my temperance mode.
And also, there is ego behind every I, my, me mine.
I close my eyes to feel the presence of the old lady beside me on my bed.
Our spines are touching each other, something that has occurred for more than 20 years now.
Then I know that we are always together.
She is closer to me than I am with my own veins.
