Do I need more words to explain myself, or do I need to evolve faster?
Three years later, I play Scrabble with the same alphabet.
The score changes, but this isn't conversation;
it's half a dozen college-ruled notebooks trying to fill themselves simultaneously,
blue and black ink promising to eternalize me on a Wednesday at noon.
But what's so special about a Wednesday at noon?
I piece together sentences in stillness,
just to go places in my head.