A Thought Is Born

What To Do:

Places we leave

slick our bodies

with silky air

or foam we feel

faithful and tickly

(even somehow taste)

but can't clearly see.

We wear its weight

like atmosphere—

runs, blots

of what we've done

in and with

each place

—what to do

with it now?—

and what it does

to us still.

W. S. Di Piero.