so many years
and tasks
it has taken
to get to a spot
where brief
and luxurious
days – mornings
open with breath
and dancing sun spots
behind the eyelids
before the self suit
gets put on –
self talk
ceases for whole moments
and when it comes back online
one small voice seems to say
wait, do you need the clothes of self?
there is no hurry,
stay in naked,
linger,
BE today
and tomorrow
and maybe
for the foreseeable stash
of nows
piled in the closet.
unseen is whether it
is a mountain of nows
or one last one
before the dawning that
now continues beyond
our ability to hoard
beyond any idea
of what is next
or needs to be answered,
For now
has oxygen
and nutrients
aplenty,
and needs no
peanut gallery of support
from the crowd
that used to live-broadcast
commentary and opinion,
silent outside
this head,
outside all heads,
tuned to a similar station,
now
signing off
for good.
Life as Improv 
Oh I love this! Thank you.
Alison ❤
It does me good to catch glimpses of you! xx m
“peanut gallery of support”! Brilliant!
They are so loud, sometimes, that raucous group inside my head! How’s your internal mob lately? xx m
Somehow I missed your reply to my reply….my mob is quite english at the moment. Not too much loud grumbling or proclamation, but some subtle tutting and curtain twitching at what I may or may not be doing correctly…..