Exasperation at all the talk of non-attachment.
Talk of transcendence.
Talk that creates an illusion of separation from pain.
Talk that makes everything appear "safe".
Talk that creates brick by brick
a wall of comfort and "protection"
against the fear of the frailty and preciousness of life.
Talk that makes us believe death is not coming.
I don't want to talk anymore.
I want to feel the frailty of life
like luminous bubbles in the palm of my hand.
To bow to it,
and gasp at the pain when it "pops"
to delight as another arises.
To ride this ride in all its striations...
from spiritual small talk
and bumper stickers.