Physics
At first, he could not sleep because the nightmares of the assault and rape were far too vivid. He wanted me to sit with him, and then, he would fall asleep. I read a series of books out loud, all of them on some pretty radical visions of what physics is, and what it has to say about our status of neurological synapses, electrons (I am fascinated with electrons), protons, and all the rest of it as it passes through us, and the very planet itself. I keep wondering how we will ever educate such boys when they fail at everything, even sleep. They are as expendable an an electron.
I took the photograph of him to show him, he did sleep. Even if he is convinced, he did not.
They all copy my writing, too. I am glad for it. That they would write anything whatsoever.
And yet we can theorize that electrons in one sense last forever, and have existed since the big bang, and probably within the singularity that created time.
Time and time again. We recreate ourselves.
I am able to transport myself to the size of a subatomic singularity whose gravitas knows exactly what dreams he dreams. It is heavy lifting. The nightmares being connected to his short-term memory, which is, neverthess, still a wavering memory of quantum light and color and shadows and the things that lurk in every home he ever had. He was not safe. Now, he knows a lot of physics. The things that move about and are smaller and bigger than we will ever be.