The lion roars and settles back down into a comfortable sleep.
There is power in non-movement.
Days fill with excuses and postponements and the undone things gather around me like a cloud. They will remain undone.
A blank table lies in front of me with an almost-finished coffee and a plate dotted with toast crumbs. These universes will not collide and re-complete themselves. They sit pregnant and purring as the lion’s lungs rise and fall, refuelling the body for the night-time hunt.