Maybe here and there. In fragments. To Indigo Dust. In a glass museum case. I am finally a museum. It all comes like flashes are some sorrow’s end. Seas in seas. You will not believe any of this, especially the dark stuff, everyone wants to cling to hope, but hope is not a life raft. And that is fine. I went down the Colorado in a rubber raft. I was not quite prepared for the speed of it.