On the twenty-sixth I wrote moresly:

In the white space
I reside
Staring dimly past
Hearts divide.
And anger would imply
I care much more than I do.

God is paltry in his indecision
And my breast is sore, full, heavy.
I carry my weight oddly
But it is my weight to carry.
Maybe I have tried to breath
Underwater streaming
Too long.