Along the way your skin feels rough to the touch…thick and hardened like a once wet glove… left alone to dry under the hot blues and burning yellows of a quickening
impatience…all the moisture evaporating…slipping thru the fingers of a fate altering chance…for a purpose in the distance… in a reality long ago. There were instructions for its care… still, you chose not to follow.    We are  always afforded time to acclimate, yet in a moment of inherent honesty…you rushed your panic. With clarity  comes conviction,        just as frenzied hastiness signals a lack of self-belief. But you will be made to sweat again…  this time let the toxins pool in the deep recesses of a colorless, wrinkled abode.      The  surroundings will be predictable, but at least they will be safe.                                             Here  you will rejuvenate, until the  ugliness you have flushed can slowly nourish that             which has made you barren. There is fertility in second chances…for those who like it rough.