Value-assailable stuff, at times blurred memories remold in ineffaceable grasps of life.
And other times the mesmerizing appeal of some beings or spaces vanishes illicitly.
Looking down on or up superficially, giving up or in too easily, origins of tardy remorse.
Excruciatingly unfixable. There are ruptures that can’t be stitched, knots that won’t do.
Do smoothly, so passably. There are too depths one shouldn’t reach while exploring 
I, me, myself. Likewise, exalting altitudes whose pressure won’t let you abandon them.
Curious not pitiful process, the sempiternal carving of our evanescent perceptions…
Turning to military discipline of unsparing selection is a pertinent solution in mayhem.
Instincts should still dictate everything, as they never seem to fail, yet to dive as in the
Orion Nebula, solely in their impetus, can only herald futile sacrifice of burning. Let go.
Never break the silence-not the one of an unuttered adieu-done can’t be un or redone.

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