It’s day one twenty since I smoked my last –
a quarter year since I vowed now’s enough.
And since I met him, nine full months have passed
(gestation out-of-body – not too tough).
Selections made have brought me to today
where I in choosing couldn’t clearly see,
for prescience has never been my way;
that’s why I call the future “destiny.”

The circle is circumference, nothing more
than shape the edge of radius denotes.
And “since” is just a point I can’t explore
for points have less existence than the motes
of dust that dance in beams of morning light,
or squiggles seen when eyelids are pressed tight.