Plan B has been perfected. There will be no visible errors or gray areas for mishaps to occur. This plan was created for me by my parents and even though it has never matched the pace of my breath, I have taken on its’ presence and made it my own.
Plan A dies daily. Between blinks of dreams. Washed down with sweet red wine. Sweated out on the elliptical machine at the gym. Plan A presents an uncertain genius. Plan A is park grass filled with summer jazz lovers. Plan A are hugs from strangers simply because…
Plan B will be the death of me.