Maybe this is perfect. Whatever sadness lurks. Maybe this is perfect. Whatever fears. Time eating its own tail, planes and wrinkles and papers due. Maybe it is perfect. The wrong thing you said. The tooth that needs to be extracted. Who calls you to play. Maybe it is perfect. Do you know what perfect is? Maybe it is this. This thing that is in your way. Maybe it is perfect. Not all good. At all. But maybe just this way on this random day. The weight of it, the light of it, the sound of it. Maybe as it is, is perfect. It is possible.