This is an "elevated" concept. So, you are up there, seriously, and you are actually diagnosing the sanity of being there? Is flying safe? Is walking? Is getting into a relationship, answering the doorbell? But, you are looking down, all you see are patches of agricultural land or maybe even a city, the water, oh, and how it all would feel like if you had to land at say 100 mph? You'd have to be crazy, if you put anytime into thinking about how it all works. I keep telling my friends about there being just one grocery story. Imagine if that closed?

You realize, your poetry is true. It's a quagmire of uncertainty. It's like you set us free in the sky without a parachute. It's the space between ladder rungs. The distance to the next hill. It's pure freedom, the thought of ex-girlfriends, a green lawn, stillness.

Oh, what you throw at us. Every word has cathartic weight. It's so complicated, that my mind, under sedation, just accepts you, pretty nurse that you are.

Oh, God I just want to cry with excitement when I read you. I love that you are inspired by music. I write lyrics to instrumentals, but my words are not as lovely and enveloping as yours. I realize you are married with children. Do you have any sisters, friends, with as much command? I love you.