I wake up and I see that it is going to be another day. I am a viewer and I am waiting for any signs to prove me otherwise. What if this is all that is expected of me?
I cross the street and my fingers. I cross out the words from the Across column. I cross my t and dot my eyes. I cross my eyes and it is painless.
I fumble the football. I fumble for my glasses. I can’t see straight. I can’t see the diamond in the rough. I can’t see my mistakes. It’s going to be another day.