It’s all around us.
We try to ignore it.
But once we look, once we call, it comes to us,
keeps coming because it’s produced at 10,000 items per second.
To have and to hold,
to hold and not to breathe,
to contain and to preserve and endure.
To be enduring.
enduring. What does that mean?
Do we really want anything to be around forever?
Don’t we actually want for everything to eventually disintegrate, decay, and leave us? So… this material doesn’t leave us ever. Like an old girlfriend you thought you were rid of, but continues to reappear, and stalk you.
Come to me.
Wrap me.
Please be done with me.