Don’t experience, just observe. It’s a warm light and it’s weaving itself in front of you, like a performance that was made for me. It’s a humid cloud, a soft blurry wind and I think it's glistening just for me. So I breathe deeply and absorb the particles that diffuse from it. My body moves closer and when I look into its droplets, I notice in the presence of both our lights, we reflect onto each other, we are experiencing each other. My body moves closer and my cloud gently surrounds and embraces my skin, it captivates my mind, it warms my lungs like I am taking a bath made of only of steam. It frees my mind for moments that feel timeless and infinite and I feel the sense of familiarity I see within the connections between others. I want to step closer again. But the air seizes, “for your sake, please don’t touch, please don’t allow yourself to be pulled into my gravity”. You mean, like I did that one first time? Its warmth was a passing experience, a pill- and right after, its presence dissipates, its cold and there’s nothing. I want to know, did it regard me at all? And does it know I’m still here? An accidental souvenir, its attached some of its glittering particles onto me forever; on my skin, in the pathways of my mind, in my energy. Does it know I kept some droplets? Sometimes, I wonder if these leftover remnants still watch me. I imagine I’d have found clarity in its full reflection, or maybe with just these pieces, I can create something new.