WHAT I KNOW

Dear May (Letters from June)

Day 12 : What I know

Touch not the audience with your hands,

after all the exhaustive repetitiveness

of life and its environs,

paints your actions

with an impending sense of doom.

Why do you watch us

Try to take what is ours?

Why do you seek to change us,

Make us clones of you?

Have you not heard

That jealousy corrupts

your apples internally?

Do you not know

That it is not in the presence of the thing itself

That we gain satisfaction?

But from its availability,

The accessibility,

The knowledge that it's presence is a choice,

That we have a say in whether or not we hold it in our hands.

I have chosen not to question

The reason for our demise.

Of what use is the understanding,

When I cannot change what is already set in stone.

We shall all die,

This much I know,

This much I accept.

Beyond this,

I seek no further confusion.

Nothing else makes sense.