the undertaking. change. one small step. repeat. improve. in my hand, a container and a green tomato. tart breathless scent. dark moments. pay attention. disregard. like a foot lodged between two rails with a train coming. or a bubble you know is going to burst. eyes blink. fluttering sips of transient light dancing against thirsty lips, tiny bits of anticipation on tips of creeping shadows, ephemeral, unclear, devilish, of questionable priority. it's hard to find. faith. dig in. attempt. slice it up. stick it on a sandwich. when it makes sense, it makes sense. or so I've heard. but for now, the decisions all swirl about- and making them always seems like something new sitting next to the little pickles at the grocery store olive bar.