I will listen.
I will ask the questions.
I will mute the tarnish with a borrowed sweater.
I will rub my eyes until grids appear.
I will laugh wildly, uninhibited.
I will commit my admittedly detached body.
I will mimic freshly hatched wonder.
I will cook a dish I find online.
I will appreciate charred gestures.
I will squeeze swollen lemons in the morning.
I will afford space.
I will take clippings from a plant and put them in soil.
I will watch absorbed children and smile.
I will floss.
I will be hyper-aware of hair growths pace.
I will hear things in conversation that aren't spoken.
I will extract meaning from ash.
I will unfasten the stories that bound.
I will build, it will be beautiful.
I won't.
All images by Francois Henri Galland