You  learned  long  ago  that  doing  nothing  is
often the most exhausting  way  to spend your
time. I’m  convinced that if you were to get up
in your sleep (we both know you aren’t  doing
this   lucidly)   and   ran  five  laps  around  the
neighborhood lake  you would  barely break a
sweat. We’re  in a  competition  to see who can
waste their youth the fastest  and my money’s 
on you. Some  days  I just want one free swing,
one that would reset this   THING   between us,
stuck in perpetual inertia, allowing its dry guts
to  slowly  spill  onto  the dewy  ground  below,
perhaps   achieving     some    form   of   cosmic
balance.   You   might   say  I  am  a  projector.  I
might  say  that   it   takes   one   to   know   one.