Everything in the Warm Spot

Turning the mirror. We try to distort ourselves because the sensual dots cannot be connected. Feeling disconnected and connected at the exact same time. Perfect behind the door, new zip codes offer hearts new faces, recognized strangers, same effect in the lazy day sunny light peeking over top of drawn shades. Everything in one big warm spot. Not willing to go. Fighting to stay. Doing it all over again, perfect day.