within a quantity of smoke.
things can become cloudy and thick.
you cut your arms through the air disengaging the subtle choke of lost oxygen.
and struggle, wondering how you surrounded yourself within the mass of lost clarity.

but smokes clear and so will reside fears,
and in a pocket of disturbance you ease into realization that
the sun will always happen tomorrow. moon will always happen tomorrow.
and love will always happen tomorrow, and days to come and so on and so on.

-Neu