To Really Letting Go (first letter)

Exhaustion may have introduced us, but I don’t stay with you out of weakness. I’m not melting, dissolving or falling apart. I haven’t floated away. Metaphor and analogy have been left behind. There’s no guilt or menace either, no presumption or pretense, certainly no control.
I’ve been emptying my mind of myself, or at least the stuff standing in for the idea of such a thing. I haven’t been trying to try or not try. Paradox has vanished. I don’t care to be noticed. I’m not adhering to directives. Effort and concern are dissipating. Breathing is easier now (I’ve noticed this despite emptying my mind of myself). I don’t wonder if I’m interesting or not. I feel lighter. Nothing is accomplished.
I must be drifting, but I’m not thinking about it. I wander and gaze. I meander through and between. I don’t look in the mirror before stepping out, catch my reflection or imagine my image as I travel. I move without plans or words. I don’t concern myself with you and I, what I once thought or felt, about me or you or anything, in all my time and now. I’m not worried or ashamed.   There’s no crisis, no absence.
My skin grafts me to the world and everything is amazing.