Morning show. First light.
The brain is different at dawn.
There are secrets in every one of us, and they’re the same secrets.
They’re the ones that jump out at us when we read great literature.
The voices that come from our own encoded recipe within.
The secrets that sound like gospel when we read religious books.
Secrets that sound like truth when we read scientific books.
Secrets that sound like facts when we read histories.
Secrets of omission when we stare at the sky.
Secrets on the back of a leaf.
In the way an earwig moves when provoked, pincers way up above its plane.
Understanding there’s nothing to resist.
Even the smallest of threats and the darkest of hours.
A panic attack attack when a Japanese beetle descends for the meat in your skull.
When relatives come to steal your soul at a holiday dinner.
When stairs seem to shift and you break an ankle.
When you’re the mouse and the owl carries you away.
Nothing to resist.
None of it a secret.
All of it mystery.
