I have said things. Many things. Some of them perhaps even well said, but at this moment, when there might be a reasonable place to put the, they hide and refuse to be found.
?! There are haiku. A tree-full. And longer pieces–say a page & half. How many words? Subliminal fear, I suppose. That is what chases them to the edges of my consciousness, where they exist but refuse to come out. Like my shy bully cat.
What does More mean? i really have to give up and read the directions.