open me carefully

do you ever think about never moving? trees and roots. how emily dickinson lived most all of her life in the house in which she was born. peering out her window, in white dresses, they say. do you have to move to be lost, or. to always know where you're going. the dream of an elsewhere. then, finding difference everywhere. interior movement. the depth inside, the complexity. stagnant water. a voluntary trap. being content. faust: if ever i'm satisfied...

or, the thing of being unfinished. continuation, reproduction, pauses. pascal and his scraps of paper, sheets filled with words in all different directions. dickinson and her attempt to organise her poetry, fascicles. how leonardo da vinci would return to a painting two weeks later. tweak, refine. corrent, revision, error. an addition. this expanse of thought, of possible thoughts, that's. not unapproachable, but, impossible to grasp entirely, to turn around in our hands? the attempt from multiple angles

could i be happy with a small life?

i must go in, for the fog is rising