drool

Weaving inwards, together, submerged into one another's subconscious. We are not separate. Merged, as one, but stretched and elongated across the universe. You are there, on a rock, across the ocean, someone I have never met and I am here in this chair, of wood, someone you have never met. We don't know but we know one another. We know each other beyond comprehension, beyond explanation. It is knowledge that has traveled on winds, on sunbeams, on the back of dragonflies to land on a particle of sand squished between my toes. We can't reach for it in times of loneliness and it is not ours to control yet it comforts us in ways we can't appreciate because that which we most rely upon is often that which occurs without our aid, without our sense, without our intelligence. We drool upon the feast of our weaknesses and regret what made it to be so.