I sit with my palms open for 21 days –letting all go: you, purpose and heat;‘It takes 21 days to form or break a habit’ –my mind gathers what Instagram says,the thought coagulates.Trump announces a ‘double-sided ceasefire’ in the US-Iran war. 14 days.Ish, one more week –and the genetic war-habit might disappear.My you-tanned mind’s like a gun aimed at air …Monkey, knife, bee, earthworm, cave –man’s seen the mind in peculiar ways;(Do you practice thinking of me, dear? I doubt.)I’ve seen the mind as outsider,ill-informed passenger,without family, school dropout,boneless, glueless; it’s never had clout.I tutor it not to look your way,I’m foolish, it’s like texting oneself, a mock-play …I can’t reach my mind, I can’t reach you.I try; the heart’s tilted axis has no choice –like a singer soldiering his voice,like a traveller tormented by space;even stairs need footsteps, the tongue waves …21 days, I’m beginning to tire … ‘… we are extending the ceasefire.’
