Time is a gravity.
This cool honey water, an antigravity embrace, submarinating me, suspending everything, all organs and bones supported, reassured, unassigned. This was what it felt like in my 20 year old body. All possibility, flawless, unweighted by comforting excuses and the consequences of fear. This time machine dissolves all, stripping to bare skin the invisible layers of pretend and presume I've accumulated, blister-like. What matters to a weightless mind? Unanchor from the rubble below, a debris field of dulled freight, all tumbled and churned over, there's no treasure there. Time is a gravity, let's push for a future.