(and what do you do?)

and what do you do?

clutched in a crowded international terminal. drowning in the book you innocently chose from the dusty shelves of the book exchange in that baked.brown town.

the very thoughts on death that you have (for the last two.years.five.months.and.five.days) managed brilliantly to avoid. right there. in front of you. type on page.

what else do you have but your life? where else can you go?

tears spill. you can’t read anymore. you cannot stop.

(and what do you do?)