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Joys of Packing |
| Packing for Maui Shorts. Already short of space and time, certainly of leg. Bathing suits me; I love to swim but I’m glad I’m on the inside looking out. Empty space for found treasures; memories take no space at all yet are everything I need. Tied here by cords, family. Charging sheer necessity of devices, cards, muse. I am unmatched, living a pajama life— clashing only works in home office. I will hide in the palm of my mind. Inside looking out to unparalleled sunsets, endless supply of wave and whale. I need not see me against a beach to know where I was; turtles are more photogenic anyway, Plumeria and hibiscus scent the mind, island songs sing from eucalyptus trees and leis encircle the soul. No idea what is layered; duffled and encased. No fashionista here; just yearning for lava-ed sand and bamboo wanders. Trees can’t see and waves come and go, dancing to moon rhythms—washing all clean. The what has lost all meaning; the why grows day by day. I was packed before I ever started. |