A candle in the wind a soft breeze                                                                                                                              ​​​​​​​A hairnet on the table, a puffed-up fable, a leaning in for a question, a deferential stare, a denial in the night,         a getting used to it, a left handed slap, a belch upon a healthy diet.                                                                     She had all those in an instant, a seeing of it all, a moment of clarity if you will. She had them from time to time. Like the time when 11 she could hear all the words in all the lands in all the languages all at the same time.     Like Dr. Xavier zooming in and out of people’s lives.                                                                                           Then it all went away.                                                                                                                                           How she screamed, pleaded thought bought fought to again see.                                                                            The poem she thought.                                                                                                                                             But it was all gone.                                                                                                                                                Now just her and her mind her ever moving mind a train ripping through a forest, steam rolling towards a nonexistent destination.                                                                                                                                          She wallowed in the pity and felt no remorse for her crime.                                                                                Blood she spilled that night and the sight so obscene.                                                                                               A scene for a netlix special with serious man narrating her life story.                                                                            A flurry of inaction as we watch nothing go down.

The coffee is about ready now