I intended to pass some kind of meaning
that would make you stop and step back
from that treadmill of reply-to-these
and go-to-these. Your life is perfectly fine
and I am glad that you are immersed in associations,
but I feel like I would enjoy our time more
if we were drinking cold tea under a tarp
on a Gobi desert dune or sitting on moss-
covered rocks and under light-catching trees
beside a hurtling river. I suppose I am selfish
and there are bugs that bite and sunburn.
I am only sitting at a desk and imagining.
I am unsatisfied. How can you be satisfied?