minute scene, no less real

Why did we come to this place? Ill equipped, no less refined – yearning hastens my question forward.

I have never looked at green more deeply. Intention runs in my veins. I might as well ask

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, why do they keep on expanding, when they could have died instead? But here they are. Here we are.

Chance and green, both rest in my heart. No cell of me truly understands. The up-rise is purely driven by what I identify as emotion – it’s vague in word, substantial in form.

Expectantly I stand on tiny legs and cheer on my mother. Again and again and again. I am only and entirely here. Then I sink to my knees and slouch my head. Somewhere on the lake’s surface my ball grows distant.  At least I’m not alone.